Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb
by tati1
Summary: Going from when Harry was four to first year. What if the Dursleys were WAY abusive? What if Snape saved his life? What if...Harry was tossed into a competition BEFORE GoF? NOT for kiddies. Story is very big on abuse. ABANDONED
1. Severus

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb Chapter 1 - Severus 

A four-year-old Harry Potter sobbed as the broom handle cracked down on his shoulders.

"Sorry! M'sorry!  Please don' hit me!" he wailed at his furious Aunt Petunia.  She lashed out again.

"Don't speak unless you're spoken to!" she shrieked. "You're a bad boy!  You-" she was interrupted as Harry's Uncle entered.  He scowled upon sighting Harry.

"What's he done now?" Petunia swelled up.

"He asked for breakfast and then asked why he had to wear Duddies old clothes!"

"Ungrateful bastard!" growled Vernon Dursley.  Harry flinched at his glare.  He actually knew perfectly well why he wore Dudley's clothes.  First, it saved the Dursleys money. And most importantly, were so big that they hid all his bruises and cuts from the beatings.

Skinny and small, Harry had received his glasses only a little while ago.  His unruly hair was jet black and nearly covered his emerald eyes in Aunt Petunia's attempt to hide the jagged lightning scar in the middle of his forehead.  The summer had begun a few days ago, but Harry had missed the last two weeks of daycare due to a bout of the 'flu'.  This meant he had had too many obvious injuries to risk an adult being near him.  (he had yelled at Dudley when the chair his porky cousin was sitting on had suddenly shattered, bringing the boy to the floor with a thump.)

In two months it would be his birthday, but he didn't believe he would get anything.  He was a bad boy; Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon said it often enough.  Grown-ups were supposed to be smarter than him, right?  But he still wished that maybe someday **he'd** get a real birthday or Christmas with his mom and dad, even though they had died in a car crash only three years before, leaving him to the dubious care of his relatives.

Their constant yells, complaints and beatings had made him quiet.  He was naturally friendly, but Dudley drove away everyone and everything, leaving Harry on his own and very timid when his relatives were in an 'angry mood.'

Which they were now.

Uncle Vernon began to rant on.  Be grateful…good for nothing…load…curse…and a very very very bad boy.  When he saw Harry looking at the floor he became red in the face and seized the boy by his arm.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, brat!"  Shaking the terrified boy, Uncle Vernon dragged him upstairs.

Harry squirmed frantically.  **He** knew what was coming, but Uncle Vernon just slammed him against the wall and had Dudley kick him as a prod to go forward.

Harry was led into the upstairs bathroom where Uncle Vernon grabbed a brush with wire bristles before handing Petunia his nephew, who cowered away.

She, in turn, grabbed his hair and shoved his head into the toilet, his lips smashing against the porcelain.

Under the water, Harry was unable to breathe, and he began to panic; thrashing his arms and legs he still couldn't rise before he began to inhale.  Again and again he sucked liquid into his lungs until his movements ceased asides from the occasional twitch.

That was when Aunt Petunia hauled him out and dropped him on the floor. Dudley grinned.  He knew his part in this game.  He jumped onto his cousin's stomach and off just as quickly; barely avoiding the stream of water and what little Harry had eaten yesterday.

Before the boy could finish gasping enough to remember what was going on, Uncle Vernon yelled for him to get up.  Bewildered, Harry began to comply, wiping at water with grubby hands.

Swish, Thwack!

Harry howled as the bristles connected with his cheek, knocking him down as blood began to flow.

"I said get up!"

Harry tried – he really did – but Uncle Vernon got there first.

Thwack!

"Worthless-little-imp," grunted his uncle between blows.  Soon Harry gave up trying to comply and covered his mouth so the neighbors wouldn't hear.

When the beating finally ended, Aunt Petunia threw a clean outfit at him and they continued to berate him as he changed out of his soggy and bloody garments.

"Do you think he's sorry, Dud?" Uncle Vernon asked his son.  Dudley smirked.

"No, Daddy."

"That's my boy!" smiled Uncle Vernon, "Can spot a liar with the best of 'em."  His voice became menacing as he turned to Harry.  "So we will have to give it a better lesson.  Come on you!"

The entire 'family' clambered into Uncle Vernon's company car; shoving little Harry in as well.

Frightened, he would have shed tears, but after last time…he had learned it was better to not get his face wet unless necessary, and not then either.

()()()()()()()()()

Vernon drove them to London, explaining his idea all the while.

"Because it-" Harry winced, when he was 'it' the punishment was always more severe, "-has been so bad and ungrateful, it may live without us providing for it.  If we feel that it has learned its lesson, we'll come back in a few days, so you better stay in the same place!" he warned. Harry was confused, but knew better than to ask questions, and knew that whatever was happening was definitely not good for him.

The car stopped in a rather empty parking lot.

"Get out," Uncle Vernon directed Harry.  He stared back at his uncle numbly, but ran for it when the brush started an arc in the little car.

As he tumbled out, the door snapped shut and the car drove off, all three Dursleys laughing without a single backwards glance.

Harry sat stunned, and would have likely remained that way if a shabby old man hadn't chased him out of the lot.

He wandered into a deserted alley and curled up in the corner with eyes wide at the gathering darkness.

()()()()()()()()()

Harry must have fallen asleep, because when he looked up, the sun was shining, and there were lots of people walking outside his alley.

Happy to see anyone, Harry jumped up and ran-limped to the mouth and out onto the sidewalk.

So many people!  All walking around, and none noticing the little wandering in their midst except to push him out of the way or occasionally drop him a quarter.

Confused and scared anew, Harry began to run, darting this way and that until he bumped into someone who shoved him back.  He landed on his rump in the streets.

Only knowing he was in an open space, the four-year-old stood before someone screamed and he was knocked down and held to the ground as a huge truck passed inches above him.

When the truck was gone, Harry jumped up and onto the sidewalk before turning to thank whomever had saved him.

There was no one around.

()()()()()()()()()()()

Severus Snape was visiting the Leaky Cauldron, and became quickly bored after his shopping was done. A spur-of-the-moment desire for tacos had lead him to venture out into Muggle London. Walking quickly, he was five blocks away from the wizarding pub when a tiny, dark-haired shape dodged past. Irritated, Snape turned to see what it was.

A small child with dark hair and oversized clothes was running for absolutely no reason (not that he cared), and suddenly crashed into a snobbish-looking teenaged boy who gave him a shove; sending the tot spinning out onto the road.

Snape's eyes widened as a truck rapidly approached the toddler, who was slowly rising.

Just as someone screamed, Snape snapped out his wand and muttered, "Cado et maneo!" and watched with bated breath as the truck drove over.  Was the boy alive?

After the truck passed, a little figure darted back onto the sidewalk.  Snape breathed a sigh of relief before anger at the child's stupidity – and the stupidity on the part of his parents – overcame him.  He stalked forward to where people were gathered around the boy and snapped, "Where's this boy's parents?  And who pushed him?"  People looked up in surprise and the child gazed at him in terrified silence.  The shover had apparently run for it, so Snape focused on the cause of his trouble, who shrank back a bit, looking lost.

"Well?" asked Snape with an arched eyebrow at the audience; who looked embarrassed and hurriedly shuffled off.  He looked back at the boy.  "Where's your mum and dad?"

"Dead," said the child bluntly.

"Where's your guardian?"

The boy shrugged, and Snape began to take in the boy.  Very young, he was more a waif than anything, but his clothes were of good material if six sizes too large.  Messy black hair over startling green eyes and glasses that were taped together on a pasty-pale face the sported a deep scratch that still bled fiercely.

Snape was mad.  He had saved a guttersnipe who wouldn't answer his questions or look at him!  He angrily grabbed the child by the arm and squatted to his height.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you boy!"  Harry flinched at the grip and familiar words and tried to pull away.  Sneering, Snape acceded to the boy's wishes and watched as he ran away.

Seeing a damp spot on the arm of the retreating figure, Snape looked down at his fingers and swore.  Blood liberally coated his hands and shone wetly in silent testimony of abuse.

Snape set off rapidly after the child.

His day was ruined.

()()()()()()()()()()

Harry ran until he reached an alley.  Ducking into it, he was terrified as a bunch of older boys followed him into the dead-end alley and slowly encircled him.

"Wot've we got 'ere?" smirked one.

"A new lad! Doan' luk t'be much uv one though."

"Ow long'v you been 'ere little mate?"

"Las' night," piped Harry in a child's innocent tones.

"Ooo, yer a newbie ain't ye?"

"Well this's our territory see?  An' yer gonna hafta leave."

"Ok." Harry was more than willing to comply, but a boy grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up onto his toes.

"Not so fast.  You trespassed.  Pay up."

"Don' have anything," protested Harry truthfully.

"Newbies've always got sumtin', so give."

"I think you lot want to leave now and leave that boy to me," came some new and silky tones from the mouth of the alley.  Harry was released as everyone turned to see a dark (and greasy) haired man stride further into the alley; hands red with blood.  "Or else things may get nasty."  The bullies immediately slunk off as Harry gazed up timidly at the scary man before him.  They stared at each other for a while before the man spoke.

"Come."  Harry followed him onto a bench on the sidewalk. And perched cautiously upon it after checking if he was allowed to sit.

"Now, what is your name?"

"Harry."

"Why are you bleeding?"  Harry started in fear.  Uncle Vernon had warned him to never ever tell!  He had tried it once…he wouldn't be doing **that** again.  So he lied.

"'M not bleeding, sir."

Snape sighed sharply in exasperation.  "Very well.  Where do you live?"

"No. 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

"Why aren't you there?"

"I'm a bad boy, so I'm being punished," said Harry by rote.  Snape stared at the fatalistic four-year-old.

"I'm going to take you home now, and if you are ever punished like this again, say: "Iuvo ego Snape" alright?"  **Why am I doing this; he's only another muggle.  Why should I bother?  But I do.  I hate me.  **The look on Harry's face took his doubts away though, and he lead the boy several blocks down to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Why doesn't the other peoples see the building, mister?" asked Harry, forgetting his Aunt's restrictions on questions.

"You see it? Really?" asked Snape in surprise.  Harry looked scornful.

"Of course I sees it.  Why wouldn't I?"

"Nevermind.  That's for another day." **So he's a muggleborn.  Interesting.**

They halted just outside the door and Snape held out his wand.  With a BANG! a bus materialized before them and a door opened.

Awed, Harry stepped in with Snape and watched with wide eyes as a man named Stan Shunpike took gold and bronze coins from Snape.  What was even more startling for the magically deprived four-year-old was that the bus was filled with **beds**.  Lots of beds.

Severus Snape watched in mild amusement as the previously quiet Harry laughed over the whole trip.

()()()()()()()()()()

They finally arrived around lunchtime with Harry on a mild sugar-and-thrill high (Severus had bought him some candy) and departed the bus in front of #4 Privet Drive.

Severus rang the doorbell and the sound of a vacuum going ceased.  A minute later the door opened, and Snape looked down to see an enormously fat four-year-old boy about three times Harry's size standing in the doorway.  Seeing Harry, the boy screamed, "Mum!  It's home!  And it brought a stranger too!"  Snape winced at the loud tones.  What a set of lungs!

A horse-faced woman appeared behind the fat boy.  Tall and bony, she didn't spare a glance for Snape, but instead began to yell at Harry.

"You brought a stranger home?!  Just wait till your uncle hears about this!" and she dragged a now subdued Harry inside (still screaming at him) before slamming the door in the wizard's face.

Blinking in astonishment, Snape sighed and resummoned (that's not a word – sorry) the Knight Bus.  Had he stayed a bit longer he would have heard a SMACK! and Harry's small cry of pain.


	2. Hagrid

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb A/N: In apology for the Author Note instead of Chapter Two, I give you Chapters 2 and 3 in succession, and another chapter in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (HPOP).  Well, here goes, I hope you like it and please please please review! Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape (possibly).  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offended, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

Chapter 2 – Hagrid 

By tati

And so it went.  Over the course of several years, Harry was often 'punished' by being left in London to find his way back home.  Whenever this occurred (about twice weekly), he'd call Snape, who would show up sooner or later.

Severus told Harry the truth of the wizarding world and rented a flat where the child could stay when 'punished' and where he could teach Harry magic.

With a strong desire to please the only friend he'd ever known, Harry quickly mastered the art of reading and began to study even while Severus was away.  Lessons with Snape's wand while the wizard was present led to sessions without the implement while Snape was away teaching.  It was a bit difficult to learn, but when he got the hang of it he could master even the trickiest spells in a heartbeat with even better results than he got with Snape's wand.  (Unfortunately – for Severus – Harry neglected to tell him of his private study sessions without a wand.)

Despite the Potions Master's gruff, sarcastic exterior, and short temper, the two became friends and both looked forward to seeing each other whenever Harry was free in the streets and Snape didn't have to teach.

The only thing that upset Snape about his prodigy was his relations.

When Harry was six, he had called for Snape, who hastened to the flat.  The child wasn't there and Snape used magic to trace him (it took a few tries, but he finally used a complex spell that employed one of the boy's hairs; left on a pillow in the bedroom.  Apparently he couldn't be found by normal magical means.)

An hour ensued of doggedly following the spell traces – which went straight through buildings he had to walk around – until he finally located Harry in a dumpster without his glasses and with a broken arm.  Snape had cared for him that time and several others, but Harry would reveal nothing, and Snape wouldn't act without permission from his small friend.

The situation was far worse than Snape realized or even suspected however, but Harry wasn't about to tell him that.  Every time Harry returned to Number Four in better health than when he left, he was beaten more harshly in punishment.  Harry Hunting grew both in frequency and in harshness, the 'lessons' before being 'punished' again more violent, and the food much less.

Despite – or perhaps because of – the Dursley's ridicule, Harry improved steadily in his magical training.  Severus knew nothing of it.  Certainly he noticed that whenever he taught the boy a spell it was picked up immediately, but he simply figured Harry was on a second-year level by Hogwarts standards.  He wasn't.

Whenever Severus was working (most of the time), Harry took a look at more and more advanced books and practiced increasingly difficult spells and potions.  Delving deep into magical history and theory, Harry somehow always managed to miss the books the held his name and revealed the true story of Harold James Potter.  The Boy Who Lived.

()()()()()()()()()()()

As Harry, now ten, rapidly approached his 11th birthday, Snape became increasingly cheerful and excited.

"You will be accepted into Hogwarts; I just know it.  I'll ask Dumbledore If I may deliver your letter so I can teach those muggles that they………um, that is to say that I cannot wait to see their expressions!"  Harry would just grin up at him and marvel that this man, so dour around others, was so open and welcoming with a mere child (especially when Harry slipped a Perk-Me-Up Potion into his morning coffee).

However, when Snape approached Dumbledore he was informed that the letters had already been sent to their children.  He was disappointed, but shrugged it off and settled down to wait for September 1st, when he would see Harry again.

()()()()()()()()()()()()

The letters kept coming.  Harry knew what they were, but said nothing after Vernon told him to shut it or have it shut for him.  Hundreds of letters with emerald writing and still he had only touched two.  Now they were stuck out on some little rock in the middle of nowhere and Harry was freezing on the floor of the hut.  He looked at Dudley's watch.  11:59 PM.  Hmm………a few seconds until his birthday.  He wondered what Severus was doing, and hoped that everything would work out.  Of course, he wasn't allowed to use magic on muggles, and he wouldn't break the rules now, but maybe they'd leave him be if they believed him lethal………he crushed that thought.  He needed punishment.  Weren't the Dursleys always saying how he should be grateful and how bad he was?  He needed to be kept in line so he didn't hurt anyone with his stupidity or evilness………the clock changed to 12:00 as a loud BOOM resounded throughout the hut.  Harry sat bolt upright as it happened again and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room with a rifle clasped firmly in both hands.  Suddenly………

SMASH!

………the door swung off its hinges from the force of the next blow and toppled to the floor to reveal a giant of a man situated in the doorway, face hidden by a shaggy mane of hair and long tangled beard.

"'Ello," he boomed.  "I'll jes' fix the door an'………there we go.  Its good ter see yeh 'Arry.  Las' time I saw yeh yeh was a little tyke.  Yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

"You knew her?" asked Harry breathlessly; ignoring his relations furious glares.  The giant smiled.

"'O course.  Knew yer da too, but yeh don' much resemble him apart from the messy hair."

"Have you been trying to send me my letters?"

"Yeh.  Doan know why yeh haven' gotten 'em yet.  Oh!  I brought yeh summat.  Might've sat on it at some point, but it's still good."  He drew out a cardboard box.  "'Appy birt'day 'Arry!"

Harry opened it with trembling fingers.  He'd never gotten a present in his life (he'd warned Severus against it; saying the Dursleys would go off the deep end).  Inside was a cake with chocolate icing, and in green icing was spelled out:

**~Happy Birthday Harry~**

Harry looked up.  "Thank you," he whispered, and paused, acutely aware of his relations close proximity and their warnings of talking or asking questions.  He plunged ahead anyway.  "I'm sorry, but who are you?"  He spoke rapidly and braced himself for the blow.  Instead, he got an answer.

"Rubeus Hagrid.  Keeper of Keys and Grounds at 'Ogwarts.  Yeh'll know all about 'Ogwarts 'o course."  Harry grinned and nodded.

"So was I accepted?  Can I go?"

"'O course! Yeh've been signed up since yeh were born!"

"Wait a minute!" bellowed Uncle Vernon.  "How d'you-" he glared at Harry; who shrank a bit "-know?  We were going to stamp it out of you!  We /never/ told!  HOW DO YOU KNOW?!"

"What?  You knew?!  I thought you just didn't know, but you /knew/?  All those times you-" he remembered Hagrid "-er………you /knew/!"

"Of course we knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia.  "My stupid sister being what she was.  Mother and father were so pleased when she got her letter.  Yes, we have a /witch/ in the family.  I was the only one who saw her for what she was.  A /freak/!  The she went and married that Potter and they had /you/.  I knew you'd be just as-as strange and abnormal-"

"-So we tried to stamp it out of you," cut in Vernon, "but you still haven't answered my question boy.  How did you know about those two being blown up and-"

"BLOWN UP?!" Harry exploded.  "You said they'd died in a car crash!"

"A car crash! Kill Lily an' James Potter?!  Tha's degradin' tha's what tis," interjected Hagrid.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?" thundered Vernon.

"That's for me to know and you to *never* find out."

"QUIET!"  Every one shut up and looked at Hagrid.  "Now, 'ere's yer letter 'Arry."

The youth opened it gleefully and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL 

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

~

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term Begins on September 1.  We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress 

"Hagrid, I don't have an owl."

"Oh yeh."  He pulled a ruffled-looking owl out of his pocket and scribbled off a note to Professor Dumbledore before giving it to the owl who flew off into the storm.

"He's not going," said Uncle Vernon.

"You can' stop the mos' famous person in the wizardin' world from goin' ter school.  We woan' allow it."

"Famous?  I never read that………Hagrid, I can't be famous.  That's ridiculous.  And why, exactly, were my parents 'blown up'?"

"Yeh doan' know?!"  Harry shook his head.  "Drat.  D'ye know the………creature tha' everyone in our world fears?"

"Voldemort."

"Doan' say the name!  Well, d'ye know abou' him?"

"Uh-huh.  His downfall was caused when he faced the Boy-Who-Lived.  Who is that anyway?"

"You."

The fall of a pin would have been heard for miles before Harry regained his voice.

"Me?!  That's ridiculous!"

"'S true.  You-Know-Who came ter yer 'ome on 'Allowe'en ten years ago.  Killed yer mum an' dad an tried ter kill you too.  An' some'ow 'e couldn't.  Never wondered how you got tha' mark on yer forehead?  That was no ordinary cut.  That's what yer get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh – took care of yer mum an' dad an' house even – but it didn't work on you an' that's why yer famous, Harry.  No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age – the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts – an' you was only a baby an' you lived."

Harry remembered a flash of blinding green light inspired by his nightmares and a high, cruel laugh………

"I think he's still out there, tryin' ter get his power back because 'e surely lost when 'e went against you 'Arry."  Hagrid looked at him with respect and awe in his eyes and Harry felt his stomach plummet.  He was no hero.  He wasn't smart or interesting and he was always doing whatever his relations bullied him into.  He ran for Snape whenever he was stuck on the streets!  Would a hero be that inept?

"He's not going!" hissed Uncle Vernon, "I read those letters and *I'm* not providing him that rubbish!  He'll go to Stonewall High and be grateful for it!  And-"

"Yer not stoppin' Lily an' James' son from goin'!  He's been signed up since 'e was born!  He's goin' to the finest school of magic in the world under the greatest Headmaster that has ever been!  Albus Dumbl-"

"I'll not pay for some crackpot old fool to teach him magic tricks!"

Uncle Vernon had gone too far.  Hagrid was practically breathing fire.

"NEVER.  INSULT.  ALBUS.  DUMBLEDORE.  IN.  FRONT.  OF.  ME!"  And he whirled a pink umbrella that had been resting beside him to point at Dudley.  The porky boy jumped with a squeal as a pig's tail sprouted from the back of his pants.  Aunt Petunia screamed as the tail then vanished as quickly as it came.

"Tha's a warnin'," growled Hagrid.  "Nex' time, I'll make it permanent."  The Dursleys gazed at him in horror before running back to the single bedroom as fast as they could.

"Now, would yer like summat ter eat?" asked Hagrid as he made a quick fire with the umbrella.

()()()()()()()()()()()

Next day, Hagrid took Harry to Diagon Alley and Gringotts bank.  Although he had traveled there before with Snape, it had never been for money for himself.  He hadn't thought his parents had left him any.  The excursion was soon over and Hagrid then took them to fetch a grubby package from vault 713, saying it was 'special Hogwarts business'.

Harry always liked travel by goblin cart, but Hagrid looked a bit green, so Harry went on his own to Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions.  As he was being fitted he saw another boy doing the same.  Blond and smooth-skinned, the youth (Harry's own age) was good-looking, but held a forbidding glacial quality in his expression.

"Hello," drawled the boy, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands.  I think I'll drag them off to look at racing brooms.  I don't see why first years can't have their own.  I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."  The boy acted like Dudley, but there was something about him………

"Do /you/ have your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry, "I've never even /seen/ a racing broom before.  I don't get to come here that often, and usually it's just for the Apothecary or Flourish and Blotts."

"Well, /**I/** have one – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree.  Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No, no one ever knows before they get there, do they?"

"Quite true," the boy finally sounded interested in the conversation; as though he never really carried on one where it wasn't just mostly himself or the other person talking with their partner taking no part in the conversation other than to just listen.  "I am sure I'll be in Slytherin though, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"No!" said Harry in surprise.  "Even if everyone hated me I'd stay.  A place to learn magic; a second chance; a /future/ are all too good to pass up for something as silly as hating where you're placed.  No matter what the house, I want more than anything just to be at Hogwarts.  I've waited /years/ for the opportunity!  Why would you leave?"  The boy was staring at him.

"You know," he said slowly, "I've never thought about it quite along those lines before, but you have a most wonderful point………"

Harry would have liked to stay and talk longer, but the attendant witch was finished with him, and he could see Hagrid outside, waving.

"Well, bye," Harry said with a soft, tentative smile.  The boy nodded in farewell as Harry went off to get his wand.

()()()()()()()()()()()()

/Time Lapse/

Holding his train ticket, bird cage, and trolly (which held his trunk), Harry turned to say goodbye to the kindhearted giant.  But his companion had disappeared………

()()()()()()()()()()()()

Throughout the first half of the month of August the Dursleys ignored him and appeared cowed.  Harry was perfectly content to go his own way and soon finished reading and memorizing his schoolbooks.  From A History of Magic he finally decided to name the snowy owl (his very first birthday gift from Hagrid; who had also provided his very first cake) Hedwig.  She seemed pleased with the name and like a cat, faithfully brought him her kills.

However, the Dursleys soon recovered and seemed determined to make him pay for their humiliation.  He was quickly removed from Dudley's second bedroom and reinstalled in the cupboard under the stairs.  Hedwig didn't appreciate being shut up, and her screeches brought Uncle Vernon's wrath down on Harry more than once.  And so the days wore on.

On August 31st, Harry figured he should ensure his transportation for tomorrow, so he crept out of his cupboard and into the living room.  When Uncle Vernon finally recognized his presence, he said, "I need – I need to get down to the London station tomorrow to catch the train to my school.  Could you drive me?  If not, I could take the Knight Bus, but I thought I'd ask-"

"You're not going," snarled Uncle Vernon.  Harry froze.

"W-what?" he stammered.

"You're not going to that ruddy school.  We can beat your abnormalities out; you are not required to go.  Therefore, you will not go."

"Yes I am!  They said I could go; you can't stop me!  I'm going to go and learn magic!"  Uncle Vernon started at the 'm' word, and nervously checked the windows in case a neighbor was eavesdropping.

"Don't – use – that – word," he huffed, rising.  "You are going to Stonewall High and you will personally burn that trunk and get rid of that bird.  /And/ you will tell us who you were sneaking to that gave you information on our kind.  You will do it now."

"No way!" said Harry; shaking his head and backing up.  "No way will I tell you anything!"  He turned to run, but a vengeful Dudley tripped him, and Harry had just enough time to twist onto his back and see his uncle before the man's hands wrapped about his throat and began to squeeze.

Choking, Harry writhed in an effort to get loose.  It didn't work – it never had.  Right before he could black out, Harry felt the pressure release, and was gasping for air while Vernon let Dudley pound him.  They didn't touch his face of course, but the rest was beatable – it could be covered by clothing.

As such, Harry didn't feel at all safe when Vernon decided to play a new 'game'.  All I can say is that it is obvious it didn't go very well for Harry………

~

Will Harry ever get to Hogwarts?  Well, you'll never know unless you REVIEW.  Bwahahahahahahaha!!!!!

A/N:  ohmygod!  NINE pages, whohoo!  Gots to upload (and finish typing) chapter three, so tata! [hey, tati – tata………ho-hum…]


	3. Hogwarts

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape (probable).  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offended, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

Chapter 3 – Hogwarts 

As the Hogwarts Express pulled away from Platform 9 ¾, no one noticed that a rather small, black-haired boy wasn't aboard.  In fact, he was locked in his dark, dreary little cupboard to 'ponder' his answers to Uncle Vernon's demands.

That night however, his absence was noted by two of the Hogwarts staff.

The first to notice was Hagrid.  He didn't see Harry among his (admittedly large) group of first years.  Of course, he couldn't be sure that he had just missed the boy, so he said nothing.

Professor Severus Snape however, noticed quite distinctly that 'his' Harry was not with the first years as they walked into the Great Hall.  He quickly turned to Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Wasn't Harry accepted?  He's not among the first years."

"Young Mr. Potter?"

"NO.  **My** Harry; the one I visit with in London."

"And, pray tell Severus, what is 'your' Harry's last name?"

"It's – why, I don't know.  Never asked."

"Hmm."  Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in that annoying habit of his.  "Well, ask Hagrid if Harry Potter is here.  You may then go and retrieve 'your' Harry while Hagrid comes to me.  We always have room for more students, and it is possible he was missed in the magical detection sweep."

"Thank you Headmaster," Snape said; not sounding as though he meant it at all.  Dumbledore just shook his head ruefully as he watched Severus leave.  //Severus seems to truly care for this mysterious child.  I wonder how they met, and when.  I thought Severus hated children.//  But his mental chuckles disappeared when Professor McGonagall called out:

"Potter, Harry!"

………no one came.

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Snape could never understand why there were so many Anti-Apparition wards about Harry's home.  Perhaps a paranoid Auror lived nearby.  It seemed the only probable excuse as Harry was not known in the wizarding world, and therefore had no use for such things, but it was a puzzle, and still very annoying to forever rely on the Knight Bus.

As he stepped onto the Dursley's carefully manicured lawn, Severus heard protests from within.  He quickened his step as an owl began to shriek.

"Shut that ruddy bird up or I'll do it for you!" bellowed a voice that could only belong to Harry's odious uncle.

"Don't you dare-"

"Do not speak unless you are spoken to young man!" shrieked his aunt's………memorable………voice.

Severus rang the doorbell.  The house went silent.  Murmurs started up again from behind the door and there was the sound of dragging and a door shut and locked.  The front door opened and Mrs. Dursley peered out at him suspiciously.  He glared at her and she shrank back.  If it wouldn't have ruined his image, Snape would have been rolling with laughter.  Instead, he fixed her with his strongest Deathglare.

"Let me in.  Now."  She let him in.  "Where's Harry?  He's suppos-" he cut short as he caught sight of a few burning quills and books that were **in** the fireplace but quite clearly had an fire-repel charm on them as they refused to burn.

"Who are you?" boomed Vernon Dursley; standing beside his wife.  He was an exceedingly large man with a red face and no neck.  His tiny beady eyes shifted nervously.  "Get out of my house before I am forced to call the authorities!"  Snape turned his glare upon the man and stated very clearly: "I think not.  I came for Harry and I am leaving with Harry.  I will be more than pleased to take more………drastic measures, should you refuse to cooperate.  So, where is he?"  A thump down the hall answered him, and he very carefully /stalked/ toward the noise as the two Dursleys continued to bluster.

"Harry?" Snape called.  "Harry, make a noise if you can hear me."  A THUMP came from his left, which appeared to be a broom cupboard.  ~Now why would Harry be in a cupboard?~ Snape asked himself with narrowed eyes.  He unlocked the door and opened it to find Harry gagged with his wrists tied; clutching an owl cage as he lay curled on the floor.  Other than a few scraps of clothing, the room was bare, and as Snape hissed his fury, he couldn't help but wonder if this was another 'punishment' technique by Harry's relations.  He quickly undid the bonds with a few flicks of his wand and helped the boy to his feet.

Harry smiled at him.  "Thanks.  Please tell me you're here to pick me up."  Severus laughed and levitated the trunk and owl out of the house.  Waiting for the bus, he looked back at the door to No. 4 in time to see Harry limping out only to be pushed from behind by his porky cousin and go sprawling on the hard concrete.

"Harry!  Are you alright?"  Harry stood slowly, brushed himself off, and nodded to Snape in reassurance.  He'd had worse.

"Fine," he said finally, "I always am."  The Knight Bus appeared before them and they quickly boarded.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

{I did /not/ want Severus to see that,} thought Harry mournfully as he gazed out at the rain beyond his window.  He was embarrassed at Severus' sight of his 'family life', and was worried whether or not he would still be permitted into Hogwarts, as he had not shown up at the appointed time.  Snape smiled at him reassuringly, and Harry felt a surge of warmth as he basked in his mentor's approval.

"You'll do fine.  I've been your teacher, haven't I?  And it wasn't your fault you entered late."  Harry hastily changed /that/ subject.

"What House do you suppose I'll be in?"

"Well, you're too smart to be Hufflepuff; too into the things around you to be Ravenclaw…………hmmm, I suppose it will either be Gryffindor-" he sneered faintly "-or Slytherin.  But don't worry.  I won't condemn you if you are in that House.  Although I do hope you enter Slytherin."  They climbed out of the bus and Snape pulled out a portkey.  "Grab on and brace yourself," he warned.  They touched it as Snape muttered an activation and with a jerk behind the navel, Harry and his mentor vanished in a whirl of color.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Harry's feet slammed into the ground and last night's bruises caused his immediate collapse at Snape's hemline. [A/N: they wear robes, 'member?]  They were positioned before a lake; on the opposite shore Harry could see an enormous stone castle twinkling with lights.  His breath caught in rapture.

"Wow."  Severus looked amused.

"Yes, they never do quite capture it in the pictures, do they?"  Harry shook his head numbly.  "Well, get in the boat," said Snape briskly; striding toward a tiny rowboat on shore.  Harry ran to catch up; forcing himself to breathe evenly through the pain.

"What about my stuff?"

"The house elves will fetch it; don't worry."  After they boarded, Snape sent the little craft skimming across the water towards Hogwarts castle.  They then landed at a dock beneath the building and Severus lead Harry through a maze of passageways and rooms until they came to a huge pair of double doors which Snape – entering Professor mode – flung open with a BANG!  All chatter within ceased, and students turned to regard them with surprise.  An old man with a silvery beard rose slowly and nodded to Snape, who was glaring at the Hall.

"Harry Potter I presume?" Dumbledore asked the small, skinny boy in overlarge muggle clothing.  Before Snape could protest that the Headmaster had the wrong boy, Harry replied in the affirmative.

"Yes sir."  Snape looked at him in carefully disguised shock.  He had been consorting with /Harry Potter/ for six years?  And /this/ was the child he was prepared to bully for being spoiled!

"Very well," sighed Dumbledore as the students broke into excited whispers, "Come up to be Sorted.  Professor McGonagall, please bring the Sorting Hat back out."  The woman he directed this last to nodded and fetched a battered old wizard's hat.  It began to squeak in a high falsetto.

"Hey!  I'm not to be bothered until next year!  I don't have a new song yet!"  As the professor soothed the Hat, Harry walked down with Snape and regarded the tables with a critical eye.  Taking a leaf out of Severus' book, he strode up with no expression and sat upon the small stool provided.  The hat dropped over his eyes.

\Hmm, so you're the bother\

{Bother?}

\Yes.  Well, let's see.  Courage.  Excellent mind.  Powerful and with a thirst to prove yourself.  You need friends though, and that Slytherin does not usually supply in generous amounts.  Besides, you may perhaps solve this ridiculous squabbling over which House is best.  Therefore, I will place you in -\

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the Hat.  Harry stood and looked nervously at Snape as the crimson-and-gold table burst into loud cheers.  However, the man was still grappling with Harry being the son of his archrival.  He couldn't see the resemblance.  Sure, Harry's hair was black and unruly and he wore glasses, but there was really no resemblance between the two………

Harry sighed at the look of indecision on his only friend's face and walked down to the Gryffindor table; carefully ignoring the cheers.  He sat beside a bushy-haired girl with rather large front teeth and across from a round-faced boy who was seated beside identical, redheaded twins.  Both twins, who were around two years older than he, grinned at him, and the one on the right extended his hand across the mountains of food that Harry was gaping at.

"Hello mate!  I'm Fred, and this is my counterpart George.  Our whole family's been Gryffindors for ages."

"How many are you?"

"Seven kids, but one's too young and the two oldest graduated," said George.

"D'you really-"

"-have the scar?"  Harry blinked and lifted his bangs.  The whole table leaned forward and he let his hair drop, blushing.  The bushy-haired girl spoke up.

"I'm Hermoine Granger.  You are in three books about the Dark Arts and great wizards.  This is Neville Longbottom-" she nodded to the round-faced boy "-and he's lost his toad.  Have you seen it?"  Harry shook his head, feeling dazed.

"Three books?  I've read tons and never heard of me until I got my letter!"

"Really?  Well, that's odd.  If I were that famous I'd have read as much as I could."

"You already read as much as you can!  Didn't you say you've memorized the textbooks?" interrupted another redhead Harry's age.  He nodded to him.  "Ronald Weasley.  Brother of these two weirdoes," he jerked his head at Fred and George.  "Never eat /anything/ they've touched!" he warned.  "They tend to experiment."  Harry nodded.

"I'll have to make something to counteract that then," he mused.  "I really don't want to be a guinea pig."  Fred and George frowned at him.

"Not be a guinea pig?"

"Why, those are unfortunate sentiments!"

"Why?"

"Because we've already begun on Neville here!" they laughed in unison; Neville choked on his soup and gazed at them in horror as his hair stood on end and his eyes seemed to glow.  Harry had to laugh at their genius.

"Static charm mixed with eyebright?  The effect is great!  I'll have to try that one sometime………" he mused.  A few students stared; Fred and George not the least.

"It took us /weeks/ to figure that out after we did it by accident on a garden gnome!" Fred exclaimed.

"How did you figure it out so fast?" asked his twin excitedly.  Everyone was staring, and Hermione looked jealous.  Harry shrank back a bit before ignoring everyone in exchange for the food.  The table settled down and returned to eating.  Harry looked about desperately; trying to calm his growling stomach.  Hermione finally noticed.

"Why aren't you eating?"

"Am I allowed to?" asked Harry hopefully.  Hermione frowned, and he feared she would say no.

"Of course you're allowed to eat!  Why wouldn't you be?"

"No reason," Harry mumbled, before helping himself.  He ate less than half of his plate, and leaned back; sated and content.  Soon, the plates cleared, and Dumbledore stood.

"Now, before the feast I promised to tell you all what the school will be hosting this year.  We have decided to begin anew the Ebony Orb Competition.  For many of you, this is something you have never heard of.  Those of you who do know of it, please allow your minds to wander freely as I lecture.

"This competition has not been held in over 500 years, and takes place between four schools of magic:  Enteuben, from France; Sitontoon, from Australia; Glebbit, from Italy; and of course our very own Hogwarts from Great Britain.  In two weeks we will test all students who want to enter.  They must all be able to complete fifth year curriculum and present a project of difficult magic for each subject they are currently taking.  It /must/ be considered difficult for your age group!  This is to ensure your safety.  On October 1st, we will announce our representative from all those who competed.  The tournament will begin a week later, as all the other schools must arrive.  They will be housed in the different towers of the building, so please be careful where you travel so as not to upset a dormitory, and behave." He glanced warningly at Fred and George; who looked away innocently.  "Quidditch will still continue, so all teams a few players short: you better get cracking and train your new teammate! The sign-up sheet for the tournament will be posted from tomorrow to the day before the test.  You may sign up at any time before then.

"Now, to bed!  Hello and goodbye, I'll see you in the morning!" and he promptly ignored the lot of them. The school flowed out; talking loudly about the tournament.  Harry stayed back though.  He wanted to talk with Severus.

As said teacher stalked out of Great Hall, Harry stepped in front of him.  A few students eyed them curiously, but the entrance hall quickly emptied under Snape's glower.  After they were left alone, he bent down to Harry.

"Since you seem to be both Harry Potter /and/ a Gryffindor, I must keep a mean façade around you.  Tomorrow I will give you a detention for………I don't know.  When you come into my office for that detention, I'll explain everything, ok?"  Snape looked at Harry with his 'mean mask' as Harry nodded.  Snape sighed, ruffled Harry's hair, and strode off in the general direction of the dungeons.  Harry watched him go and turned down an unknown corridor.  The torches were unlit and his footsteps echoed as he tried random directions in search of the undisclosed location of the frustratingly elusive Gryffindor common room. [A/N: what a mouthful!]

Twenty minutes later Harry gave up and sat down to ponder over his dilemma.  He didn't have his wand because it was in his trunk, and he was too sleepy to think a coherent spell anyway.  He also had no clue as to his relative location.  He sighed, and jerked his head up as a sound suddenly echoed throughout the corridor.

"Mrrow?" asked a scruffy-looking cat evilly.  Harry didn't notice the evilness though and smiled – he loved animals – before stretching out his hand in a welcoming gesture.

"Here kitty kitty kitty.  Here kitty," he called softly.  The cat regarded him with surprise and walked over in a dignified, yet wary, way.  However, she arched readily enough and purred loudly as he scratched behind her ears.  Soon, she was twining around and investigating him as he laughed.

"I'm too tired to do wandless magic, pet.  And too (yawn) tired to do anything.  I'll sleep here.  D'you have to go?" he asked wistfully.  The cat considered this before curling up next to him.  "Thanks," he said, smiling.  Harry laid down with a hand on the cat and his head pillowed on his arm.  After he fell asleep, Mrs. Norris (for it was she) carefully crept away to fetch someone to care for the boy she had so quickly grown fond of.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Harry awoke not much later to murmurs moving toward him.  finding the cat missing, he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"This had better not be a wild-goose chase," warned a sharp, feminine voice, "And you had better have a good reason for bothering me instead of Filch.  Part cat that I am, you-" she stopped as her eyes fell upon a little dark form on the floor.  Harry wracked his memory for a name………ah yes – Professor McGonagall, his new Head-of-House.  Uh-oh.

"Um – hello," he squeaked nervously.  Would she hit him?  Her face seemed angry enough.

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing out of bed?" she snapped.

"I………got a detention from Se – Professor Snape!  And everyone was gone by the time he was done and I walked all over the place but didn't see anybody – oh hey!  The cat's back!" exclaimed Harry, spotting Mrs. Norris by McGonagall's ankles.  The teacher looked puzzled.

"Yes, this is Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat."

"She found me, the pretty little thing; isn't that right?" he cooed to the cat.  McGonagall found herself strongly reminded of Hagrid and a certain three-headed dog.

"Yes………well, Mr. Potter, I cannot fault you for being lost.  Now come along; I'll show you to the common room."

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After seeing Harry put to bed, McGonagall stormed down to the dungeons.  She halted at a torch sconce near the classroom.

"Aquiliturn.  Snape loves James Potter.  Q-" the sconce twisted creakily and the wall opened.  McGonagall blinked.  "Well," she sighed, "It /is/ the most unlikely thing for anyone to say near Severus."  She quickly reassembled her anger and stormed in.

"Severus!" she yelled, "get out here now before I hex you!"

"Really Minerva.  Do you know what time it is?" smirked Snape from the door to her right.  He nodded at her.  "I see I need a new password."

"Focus on the subject!  Do /you/ know what time it is?"

"Around one."

"My point!  And guess who I found asleep and nowhere /near/ his dormitory?"

"Well, I'm assuming it isn't Filch-"

"Harry Potter!  He said you gave him a detention and left him to his own devices after everyone left.  He wandered around and made friends with Mrs. Norris and /went to sleep/ in the /corridor/!" She looked at Snape for a reaction, but only saw a flicker of surprise.  Behind his mask though, Severus was berating himself.  He should have walked the boy up………poor Harry!  |Yes,| he thought angrily, |I messed up big.|

~

Aaaannnd, end chapter!  Yay!  Now review!  I want ten more by the next chapter is loaded!


	4. Unhappy Start

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

Chapter 4 – Unhappy Start 

****

Next day, all the other First Year boys kept asking where he had been the night before.  After the sixth Question & Answer session Harry got irritated and cursed the next boy's mouth shut.

Five minutes later Ron tapped him on the shoulder.

"Um, Harry?  We can't un-hex him."

"Oh, for-" muttered Harry impatiently.  "Finite Incantatem!"  Seamus' mouth popped open and all the boys turned to stare at Harry.

"What?" he asked defensively.  No one said anything so he shrugged, dressed, picked up his wand (A/N: Hint!) and walked down to the common room.

"Hello Harry," greeted a redheaded twin.  "Coming to breakfast?"

"Yes.  Where's George?"

"I'm George!"

"No you aren't.  George blinks faster than you do when you talk to people."  Fred gave a whistle.

"Wow Harry.  Hey, you wanna come down with us?  We won't curse you, we promise."  Harry ducked and a spell hit Fred in the stomach.  "Oi, George!  Watch your aim!" bellowed the youth.  The common room stopped to watch and everyone began to snigger uncontrollably as Fred sprouted a donkey's tail.  While the boy was still bent over, Harry patted him on the head (he couldn't reach otherwise; the Dursley's rations had deprived him of growth, so he was about as tall as your average six- or eight-year-old even though he's eleven – don't ask; I just like having a short Harry).

"Better luck next time!" he announced cheerfully, and ran for the Great Hall before the twins could retaliate.

*

"I'm telling you!  He just waved a hand, said the spell, and uncursed him!  Wandless!  It's not natural.  We haven't learned anything yet!"  Ron was gesticulating wildly to the twins, who had related their own encounters (Fred was on his way to the Hospital Wing), about Harry's cursing and uncursing Seamus that morning.

"Frankly Ron," said George, looking at Fred.

"We find it sort of-"

"Cool!" finished George, and they left.  Ron gaped before shaking his head tiredly and dashing off to breakfast.  He didn't notice a black-haired Slytherin First Year slipping away as he did so.

*

Harry's first class was Transfiguration.  This was his first formal magical education, so he wanted to arrive early.  Instead, he found himself ten minutes late because the Slytherin Prefect had given him the wrong directions.  He cautiously creaked the classroom door open as the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff First Years turned to watch.

"I-is this the Transfiguration classroom?" he asked in embarrassment.

"Yes, and you're late, Mr. Potter," snapped McGonagall from behind the door.  She seemed………different somehow; Harry couldn't really put his finger on it, but was too distracted by her scolding that he didn't bother to pursue the change.  "I advise you not to do it again, understood?"  Harry nodded and said nothing about 'unfairness'.  Severus didn't tolerate excuses, and the Dursleys were even worse.  No excuse was worth a reprimand or beating; even if the lack of argument sometimes led to more trouble.  His teacher frowned at his silence, but motioned for him to take a seat.  The one next to Hermione was empty, so he slid in as she gave him a disapproving look.  McGonagall nodded curtly and walked to the front of the room.

"You missed my introduction Potter, so catch up later.

"Now, we shall begin by Transfiguring porcupine quills into pins." Harry looked up in surprise.  That was it?!  He'd done /that/ years ago! "Startled at starting from the bottom, Potter?" the teacher asked as she handed out quills.  "Well, that is where everyone starts you know. I will not make exceptions."

"Yes, but-"

"Be quiet and Transfigure your quills, Mr. Potter!" she snapped. Harry sighed and waved his hand before settling down to wait.  He soon grew bored and started looking about the classroom.  No one had done half so well as he, and Hermione seemed furious at his ease.

By the end of class, Hermione's quills had gone all pointy and Harry's were flawlessly perfect.  McGonagall said nothing, but did glare at him suspiciously.  Harry slumped, bored to tears, and near ran out of the room for his next class, Herbology.  This session proved to be more interesting.  Although he had read and studied as much as for any other subject, he hadn't gotten much chance for hands-on work. After the class was complete, he decided that, though it was cool in its own way, he didn't care much for plants.  However, he had still found it far easier than expected; knowing every answer practically before Professor Sprout completed the question.

Harry had lunch; no one sat next to him.  The twins were still off in the Infirmary and it seemed the other First Years shunned him. Strangely enough, Hermione followed their lead (though they ignored her too) and burrowed into a book at the opposite end of the table. After lunch was Potions, and Harry got lost again, arriving just after Snape.

"Detention, Mr. Potter," said his friend silkily.  Harry paused, hurt, before remembering their conversation.  He nodded and moved to an empty and isolated desk.

By the end of class, Harry's potion was perfect, he was surprised at Snape's bigotry, and he hadn't taken any notes.  He had, however, correctly answered every question and turned all Slytherin and Gryffindor First Years effectively against him.  His detention was scheduled for that night, so he was left to wander on his own devices for the rest of the day because DADA was cancelled (the teacher hadn't arrived yet).  So Harry grabbed a spellbook and headed off to a dungeon to practice spells on the unoffending wall; releasing the morning's frustrations with curses and magic.  School wasn't supposed to be this easy!  Merlin, he was here to learn, not die of boredom!

It took a while, but he finally calmed down, pocketed his wand, and walked out.

Into a fist.

Harry looked up to see the only other black-haired first year (Dean Thomas' was dark brown), Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle standing over him.  He felt at his split lip.

"Nice to see you too," he muttered.  Hmm………no teacher in sight.  "Where's Draco Malfoy?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.  Blaise motioned to him with his head and Goyle obediently hauled Harry up by the collar.

"Dunno, but it's none of your business."  Blaise had Goyle puch him.  Harry looked at them emotionlessly.

"I could hex you right now," said Harry; not boasting, but stating a fact.  "But I won't.  Go ahead, I don't mind."  He held out his arms to make a better target.  Blaise looked him over in confusion and scorn.

"Very well, Know-It-All.  Crabbe, Goyle," he motioned and his cronies moved in.

*

Severus didn't look up as Harry walked in that night, but growled out, "Close the door, Potter," and placed a Silencing Charm on the room.  He then rose and walked over to Harry, still reading a Fifth Year student's summer essay.  He finished and found himself gazing down upon Harry's bowed head.

"You had something to discuss, Severus?" asked Harry, voice muffled.  Severus was confused, but maybe Harry was just mad at him for last night.

"Yes.  There's something I haven't told you."  He took a breath.  "I used to be a Death Eater, but turned spy for Dumbledore-" Snape stopped in surprise as Harry lifted his head in startlement.  Harry's face was sprouting a bruise on his cheekbone and a bloody lip.  His glasses were missing from his face, and the front of his robes were crumpled as though they had been twisted.  Severus lifted Harry's chin angrily to inspect the split lip.

"Who did this?" he demanded.  Harry sighed and looked anywhere but Severus.

"I fell down the stairs.  I'll stop at the Hospital Wing later."

"Nonsense.  The stairs didn't punch you, and you are far from clumsy.  /Who did it/?" Snape hissed.  Harry jerked away.

"No one!  No one touched me, and no one hit me!  It was my own fault, and I fell sir."  Snape winced at the title as Harry drew breath.  "My fault.  Now, you were saying?"  The professor sighed and continued.

"Because I used to be a Death Eater, I must keep my connection with the others.  Many of their children attend this school, and if they discovered that I favored the very downfall of the Dark Lord when he's not even Slytherin, well, suffice to say that things won't go very well for me.  Or you."

"All right Severus.  But could I still visit sometimes?"

"Certainly.  If you ever need to talk, just drop your supplies by 'accident' during my class and I'll give you a detention."  Harry smiled at the irony.  "Now," continued Severus, "you go to the Hospital Wing.  I don't need you injured.  My life is complicated enough as is."  Harry nodded respectfully and left.  Snape waited until he was gone before stalking off to find out who exactly had been bullying his protégé.

*

Harry walked reluctantly into MP's office.  For a moment he stood uncertainly in the doorway; then a plump witch appeared, calling back over her shoulder, "Now if you would stop trying /so many/ dangerous ventures – oh, hello, dear.  Oh my!" she gasped as she spotted Harry's face.  "What on earth happened?"  She bent to examine his lip.

"I fell down the dungeon stairs."  The nurse pursed her lips and glared furiously.

"I refuse to buy that.  I don't take well to students putting others in my care.  What happened?"

"I fell down the-"

"Harry?"  It was Fred, now tail-less, appearing behind MP.  "Blimey, what happened to you?"

"I fell down the stairs.  Give me a minute; I need to repair my glasses."  He held up the shattered frames as proof and quickly fixed them.  After putting them on, he sighed in relief.  "Good, now I can see you.  And I fell down the stairs," he added stubbornly as MP opened her mouth again.  She frowned at him.

"Very well.  Fred, you may leave.  Now dear, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't, but I'm Harry.  Harry Potter."  She gasped and dropped her wand.  Harry bent to pick it up, wincing as he did so.  Her sharp eyes caught his expression and she tugged his shirt up before he could stop her.  She hissed in shock, and Fred turned back to look at Harry; his eyes widening as he saw the bruises Harry was hurriedly covering again.

"That's it," she snapped, "you're staying the night."  Harry opened his mouth to protest, so she threw in a new threat.  "And if you do not do as I say, you'll be here tomorrow too."  Harry sighed resignedly as Fred slipped out the door behind him.

*

"-and now he has to stay the night," finished Fred.  George's eyes narrowed.

"He obviously won't say anything, so we'll have to find out what's going on ourselves."  Just then, Ron entered the common room and made a beeline for the other First Years.  Fred and George looked at each other and followed after their younger brother.

"Potter's in the Hospital Wing.  Whole night," Ron began.

"Why?" asked First Year Jedd Hurst, who was in the second First Year Boy's Dormitory.

"Maybe someone gave him a papercut," said Amelia Banton nastily.  Everyone laughed – Fred and George looked murderous.

"Nope," grinned Ron.  "Apparently someone beat him up.  /He/ said he fell down the stairs."

"I guess someone didn't like His Snobbishness."  Titters.

"Wish we could thank them," said Dean Thomas thoughtfully.

"Well, now who's gone Slytherin?" asked Fred angrily.  The students jumped and regarded the duo with unabashed surprise.

"Why do /you/ care?" asked Hermione.

"Why don't you?" George shot back.

"Because he's stuck-up!" yelled Ron.

"He's not stuck up; you pricks are!" snarled Fred.  "Poor kid doesn't even know he's advanced!  And here /you/ lot are; making fun of him like a bunch of Slytherins!  I thought there was a /reason/ people were picked to be Gryffindor, but maybe you just got in on pure LUCK!  So leave him alone; George and I won't have it!"

"Next time we hear something like this, someone'll be hexed and experimented on for the rest of the year!" growled George.  The twins stalked off as the First Years turned to Ron.  He glared back.

"What?  I can't control them!"

"Well, let's observe Potter," decided Hermione.  "When we have proof to give Fred and George maybe they won't be so quick to defend him.  Everyone agreed.  No one would talk to him, but watch him and avoid insults until they had ammunition against the twins.

*

MP had put Harry to bed after giving him a Heal-All Potion which was commonly used to treat minor injuries.  She gazed at him; brow knit with worry.  Finally she rose, went to her fireplace, and threw in some floo powder.  She had to speak with Dumbledore.

As she strode out of the fireplace, Dumbledore looked up from his papers.  His wizened face crinkled into a smile through the long beard, and MP found herself smiling back.

"Hello Poppy.  This is an unexpected surprise; what can I do for you?"  Poppy Pomfrey lost her smile as she recalled her mission.

"Headmaster, I have in my ward one Harry Potter, who came to me with a bruised and bloody face.  I managed to pull up his shirt, and he was absolutely /covered/ in bruises.  I didn't get a chance to look over the rest of him, but gave him a Heal-All and put him to sleep."

"The boy's story?"

"He says he fell down the stairs, but some of those bruises were /old/, and I know that stairs cannot inflict that much damage!  Especially the dungeon stairs."  Dumbledore kept smiling.

"Well, keep me posted and don't pester Mr. Potter so.  I'm sure he will not like it."  Pomfrey nodded to him and left.

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth, thought for a bit, and shrugged before going to bed.

~

A/N:  How was the chapter?  I'll try and update more often, but typing the story after it's written down is BORING no offense.  Any way, I'd be happy to hear any suggestions you have, as there are parts that I could change, but please don't flame me.  I'm not totally sure that I would appreciate a sarcastic attack.

Hmmm, lessee………if anyone is really good at doing sarcastic remarks for Severus Snape, please tell me, because I have another story (not posted yet) that needs his biting wit.  Unfortunately, I am woefully inadequate for the task, so I'd appreciate help.  That about covers it.  Have a good summer! ;)


	5. Sirius, Dog Star

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

Chapter 5 – Sirius, Dog Star 

Harry awoke early the next morning, expecting Aunt Petunia to screech for him to make breakfast.  But the room was white.  He groaned in remembrance of the Hospital Wing.  He did feel much better though, and he left before the nurse saw he was up; peering nervously about for her the whole time.

He arrived in his dorm and changed before collecting his books and heading off to breakfast with not a word to anyone.  What he didn't know was that Plan Potter had begun.

Hermione sighed with relief as a quill began to write on a piece of paper:

"Heya, Harry!"

"Feeling any better?"

"'Lo Fred, George.  'M fine; thanks for asking."  She grinned triumphantly.  It worked!  She had just found it in the Library and asked a Seventh Year to perform the necessary spells to complete the Tracer.

The Tracer was a series of spells placed on the belongings of the one being traced.  By supplying parchment and quill, whatever the subject (in this case victim) said or was said to was copied down by the quill.

Hermione laughed contentedly and left the quill to its own devices as she headed off to breakfast.

When she got there she glanced at Harry.  He looked relaxed, but had fading traces of a bruise and his lip was still partially split.  Frowning at Harry's 'cockiness', Hermione flounced down by Ron.

"Did it work?" he hissed.  She nodded, and opened a book to do more research for Charms.  You could never learn too much.

```````````````````````````````````````

Harry's first class was again Transfiguration.  McGonagall gave them more quills and Harry finished them with a wave of his wand.

A minute later he was reading when the teacher came down on him in a fury.

"Potter!  Why aren't you working?  This isn't free time!"  Harry was sitting by himself today; even Hermione had shunned working with him.  The sniggers from the rest of his classmates rang loudly in his ears as he looked up at the teacher.

"I'm done," he stated; his voice cutting straight through the laughter.

"Nonsense!"  McGonagall looked over his work carefully.  She seemed surprised.  "Turn them back."  Harry did so and her eyes widened.  "Hmm, how much _do_ you know, Potter?  Certainly you can't do something so difficult as transfigure my desk into a pig, but can you-"

"But I _can_ Transfigure your desk, Professor!" Harry interrupted, looking pained.  "That's the problem.  I didn't and don't know what I shouldn't know, so I don't know how much I _do_ know!"  Most students looked confused, but a few followed; even if they didn't understand.

"Nonsense!" she barked.  "Lying will get you nowhere fast, Potter, and you have no reason to-" but again she was interrupted as Harry pointed his wand easily at the desk; changing it instantly into a flawless white lion.  He quickly changed it back before it could do more than roar, and blushing deeply, left the classroom.

It took the Professor a few minutes to recover.

"Class dismissed.  I need to…dismissed."  She walked out thoughtfully.

"What a bloody prig!" said Ron indignantly.  "He shows us up at every turn-"

"Why can't _we_ do that-"

"Did you see-"

Hermione moaned and covered her ears.  He was so much smarter than her!  How could she ever aspire to that level?  If the teachers liked HIM they might forget her, or mark her lower in comparison.  Oh, her life was going to be such a nightmare!

``````````````````````````````````````````

Harry hid by the lake until it was time for Herbology.  Ignoring he glares of his housemates, he concentrated on working.  He ate lunch again away from the others and found his way to the Charms room quietly.

Unfortunately, Professor Flitwick, never discreet about anything, was very excited over his ease with charms he'd learned years ago and called unnecessary attention to the exasperated Harry and glowing Hermione.

"Professor, please calm down."  Harry shrank in his seat as the tiny man heaped praise, and fled as soon as the bell rang.

````````````````````````````

History of Magic was dull, and Harry had learned it all anyway, so he sat back and studied the magical angles of a project he was thinking of.

After class he was jostled and elbowed far more than necessary by hungry students.  Harry ignored it, and made his way into the Great Hall for dinner.  He would be having Astronomy that night and he feared it would be just as simple as all his other courses.  Flying, the one thing he hadn't tried, would not occur till next week, and he had to avoid boredom.

Glancing about for the person flicking peas at him, Harry's gaze landed on Zabini sizing up a timid-looking little Ravenclaw.  He pointed her out to Malfoy and his cronies, but Draco shook his head and left.  Crabbe and Goyle nodded eagerly enough though, and Harry's hands clenched with anxiety.  He quickly stalked over to Blaise.

"Dungeons," he said in a low voice, "Five minutes.  Bring Dumb and Dumber."  He turned on his heel and grinned as the boys forgot their previous target and homed in on a new one; following directly after him.

Harry entered a lonely dungeon a minute later and immediately felt a hand drop heavily on his shoulder.  Crabbe and Goyle appeared to either side.

"Don't tell me you like this, Potter?" said Blaise from behind him.  Harry shook his head.

"No, but I can take it.  And I at least can defend myself before anything gets really out of hand."

"There's no fun in complacent prey."

"Then I'll make it interesting," said Harry, exasperated.  "Here's a deal: you can beat me up as long as you touch _no one_ else.

"But the second you break this I will hex you till you never _think_ of touching anyone again and damn the House points," he added; fiercely turning to regard the other.  Blaise blinked and backed up nervously.

"Deal!"  He motioned to Crabbe who then seized Harry's arms; giving Goyle a better shot at his stomach.  Harry gasped for breath and would have collapsed but for Crabbe's hold as Zabini pulled his head back by his hair and removed his glasses.

Unable to see, Harry became disoriented and slightly frightened.  Blaise noticed and grinned wickedly.

"Let go," he ordered hi thugs.  He stood beside Harry and bent slightly to hiss in his ear.

"Let's play a game.  You find the door and we'll let you leave for the night.  But if we catch you, you get punished."  Well, it's obvious as to who won that.

*

"I thought that would be more difficult, Potter," sneered Blaise as Harry's nose met ground with a sickening crack.  He tried to squirm away when a foot stepped on his messy hair, effectively pinning him down…

````````````````````````````````````

Harry stayed in the Hospital Wing again that night and missed his Astronomy class.

The next morning though caused Harry to despair and go drastic.  Unhappy with his education, he boldly approached the Head Table at lunchtime and asked to speak to Professor Dumbledore in private.  The Headmaster nodded and followed the small eleven-year-old out of the Hall.

"What can I do for you, Harry?" Dumbledore twinkled down at the boy who was twisting about nervously.

"Well, s-sir, um…over the last few days I've been really bored.  The work's too easy; I know it all, but I don't know how much."  The old man frowned in thought before reassuring Harry.

"Come to my office.  I will give you tests for the different years until you reach your limit."  They walked to a stone gargoyle.

"Lollipop," announced Dumbledore cheerfully, and the gargoyle leapt away to reveal a moving staircase leading to Dumbledore's office.  Full of fascinating gadgets and books, the first thing that caught Harry's eye was a red bird of beautiful plumage perched by the door.

"Oh, a phoenix!  Hello, Fawkes," said Harry, enraptured.  The bird preened as the Headmaster shot him a curious look.  "I read about you somewhere before.  It mentioned Beautiful here…" Dumbledore smiled in understanding and brought out a stack of papers.  Harry rummaged through the test.

"Too easy."  His response was the same for the next three, but he took the fourth, fifth and sixth.  Dumbledore graded them.

"Well?" asked Harry anxiously when he was done.  Dumbledore smiled at him.

"You have more than acceptable marks in all those tests.  The last two were last year's O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s.  We shall have to arrange special tutoring for you in more advanced aspects of wizardry.  Now, why don't you go to sleep, Harry?  It's two A.M."  Harry gazed up at the clock in surprise before nodding wearily and collapsing onto a cot the Headmaster set up for him.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Dumbledore awoke him a few hours later.

"It has been decided that you will take your classes with the Fifth Years until Christmas, though your lessons will be more advanced.  After Christmas break, you will attend with the Seventh years – again working at a higher level – and at the end of the year we shall give you a university test.  We'll figure out what to do with you next year later.  Is that alright with you?"

"Y-yeah!" Harry stammered excitedly.  "Wait'll I tell Fred and George!"

()()()()()()())()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

By breakfast the news was out: Harry Potter was to be studying Fifth and Seventh year curriculum.  Nearly all the students were shouting over the unfairness of it all and shooting Harry rather potent death glares (they _are_ wizards after all).  The stupid First Year was showing them up.

Harry's first class on his new schedule was Care of Magical Creatures, or CoMC.  Each student was shown to a large crate and told to care for the creature inside.  Of course, most of the beasts were extremely dangerous, and a group of three students nervously backed away from their snarling manticore.  One boy was peering warily at his new full-grown unicorn, which kept stamping at him in a decidedly unfriendly fashion.

Harry himself blinked at all the commotion and cautiously opened his own.  Within was a rather large, black and underfed dog that stepped out daintily; cautiously sniffing the air.  A student pointed at it in undisguised horror.

"RUN!!  It's a GRIM!!"  Harry and the dog stood bemusedly watching the students run screaming and their animals panicking.  Harry sent out a calming charm to keep anyone from being hurt before turning to the dog.

"Hello."

"Mr. Potter, where did that dog come from?" snapped Professor Grubbly-Plank, coming up behind him.

"He was in the crate you gave me - "

"Nonsense!  I gave you an Acromantula, and there was no Grim among the creatures I assembled."

"Well, he's here now, so can I keep him?" asked Harry, masking his irritation.  Why did everyone think him a liar?

"Very well, Mr. Potter, but I expect five feet of parchment on Grims and other magical creatures surrounded by superstition."

"Sure," said Harry, shrugging.  "C'mon, Sirius."  The dog froze in shock.  "D'you mind being named after the dog star?" asked Harry anxiously.  "I thought it would be nice.  It's my favorite star, and it – fits – you."  He looked really worried, so the dog barked affirmation and wagged his huge tail.

It turned out Sirius was a very clever dog, though prone to fits of happy-go-luckiness and then long periods of sadness.  Harry was sorry to leave him when classes changed.

"Bye Sirius, I'll come see you tomorrow," he sighed.  "I'm…busy…at night."  The dog watched curiously as Harry trotted away.  The boy certainly didn't look like James, or anyone else he knew either.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The rest of Harry's classes were more challenging and more unpleasant.  Even though he enjoyed the magical and mental workout, Harry didn't appreciate the glares, and he sighed in resignation as he was followed after his last class by a few Seventh Years.  How many bullies would he have to accommodate in this school?  And he had no defense against these kids either.  The stupidest was probably at least as skilled as he was, and all of them were bigger and had far more experience in the wizarding world.  And there were six of them.

Harry stopped and waited patiently for them in an empty hallway.  This would hurt; Seventh Years were more knowledgeable about this sort of thing than First's.

He was right.  Harry Potter didn't appear at dinner that night.  He was too busy being carried to the Hospital Wing by Hagrid, who had found him unconscious with a broken leg in the corridor.

*

A/N: I know, I know, been a looong time.  But at least I updated!  I'm working on typing this stuff more, so I'll stay on all day to try and get up more chapters and perhaps another story (I have over fourteen).  The only problem is typing.  Anyone live in Luzerne County, Pennsylvania and like to type?  Just joking (maybe).

Anyway, I've gotten a few answers for my Snape voice and emailed them, but never got written back!  Do ya want the job or don't you?

Last note: I LOVE slash.  Anyone who hates it had best stop reading all my stories but HPOP and All My Love (not posted 'cuz I wanna type the entire thing so I'll be ready).

Thankyou to my reviewers.  Without you, I'd stop updating. (Just some encouragement!)

Keep those reviews coming!

Luv,

tati


	6. Madeye Moody

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

Chapter 6 – Mad-eye Moody 

Harry awoke to nervous whining.  He sat up, wincing quietly where the average eleven year old would groan.  'Hospital Wing,' he thought, and shuddered as he recalled why.  The Seventh Years played rough.  What would happen when the school found his name on the Ebony Orb sign-up sheet?  On second thought, he didn't want to know.

The whining grew louder and Harry looked to the side.  Sirius was there; panting worriedly at him.

"Hey boy, how'd you get in here?" Harry asked; questing about for Mm. Pomfrey.  Sirius barked happily, and Harry eased himself out of bed.  He limped slightly but moved fast, and was soon running for DADA, which was his first class of the day.  "I'm late, I'm late, I'm so, so late…" he panted as he transfigured his Hospital garb (white with yellow duckies) into a school robe.  He dashed madly into the classroom –

And ducked as a curse whizzed by overhead.

"Stop!" he shouted, dodging the next hex.  "I'm sorry I'm late!  Really!"  The curses stopped and Harry heard laughter as he cautiously raised his head and lowered his arms from his submissive gesture.  A man gazed at him curiously.  A man with a wooden leg ending in a clawed foot, a chunk missing from his nose, and an electric blue eye that spun backwards in a dizzying arc.

"And you are?" the man growled; the scars on his face stretching and twisting grotesquely.

"Harry Potter, sir," replied Harry, moving slowly to an empty desk.

"Why are you late, Potter?"

"I overslept."  The boy's eyes challenged the other students to find a lie in his statement.  A few laughed – rumors had gotten out then – before the man glowered them into silence.

"I am Alastor, 'Mad-eye' Moody," Moody announced.  "And I don't react well to sudden movements.  Ten points from Gryffindor for being late, and fifteen points to Gryffindor for good reflexes.  Sit down.  No, you won't need to take notes yet.  Today will be mostly a practical lesson."  He moved to stand before his desk.  "Now, this year the Fifth Year DADA course will cover mostly dueling.  To do this you will need to know curses.  Not just those ridiculous Tickling Charms, but real curses.  And the Headmaster and I think you should at least know what illegal curses look like so I will put each of you under the Imperious and then we will study pain and other Dark curses for the first month.  You will under no circumstances perform any of these.  Should you care to disregard this warning…well, expulsion would look good.

"We will do this alphabetically.

"Abner, Chris, get up here!"  The fifteen year old looked nervous as he made his way to the front.  "Imperio!"  Chris suddenly danced about in an astonishingly accurate parody of the Swan ballet.  Most students laughed.  Harry didn't.  He did shudder, face paling: For someone to be able to control others to such an extent…Uncle Vernon could make him administer his own beating!  There was a quick movement near his right eye.  Harry shied away violently, covering his head.  He was suddenly little again, and he knew Uncle Vernon was mad.  He whimpered slightly and clamped a hand over his mouth before realizing someone was shaking him.  His gaze refocused and he stared into Moody's chest.

"Potter, snap out of it!"  Harry pushed away gently, his classmates laughter ringing in his ears.

"What happened?"

"Wallace Beckett walked past you for his turn and you collapsed.  What _did_ happen, Potter?"

"I – nothing.  Sorry; I'm sorry."  Harry sat quietly, biting his lip until it was his turn.  None of the other kids were able to throw off Imperious, and they seemed rather confused when it was over.  Harry drew a shuddering breath as Mad-eye pointed his wand at him with a shout of 'Imperio' before he was overtaken by an immense relaxation submersed in fluffy clouds of bliss that promised to continue if he'd just…_'imitate a squirrel.'  _Harry stiffened.  He hated taking orders.  Instructions were fine; there was reason.  There could be no reason to make a fool of himself.  _'Imitate a squirrel.'_  He didn't want to.  _'Do it!'_  Harry sat down obstinately and glared at Alastor as his vision slowly cleared.

"No!  I won't and you can't make me!"  And he remembered what was going on.  "Oh, sir!  I'm sorry!  I didn't mean to be rude!  I just - "  Moody broke in with a smile.

"Did you see that!  Potter beat it!  Now, let's see if anyone else can manage!  Wonderful, Potter!  They'll have a hard time controlling _you_!"  The other students were far less appreciative of his skill, and they were even less happy when his name was discovered on the sign-up sheet.  Harry ignored the glares and began to talk to himself in his lonely corner of the Gryffindor table.

"See?  Now look what you've done!  Gone and made everyone hate you, that's what!  You know you'll never become anyone special, no matter how hard you try…yeah, I know.  And as much as I know, I still don't know how not to be a freak.  Gods this is really pathetic, I'm having a conversation with myself…" he muttered, stabbing his peas fiercely.

"And then he just dropped - "

"Practically _bawling_ he was - "  Harry cringed away from the sneering tones.

"Yeah, but he beat Imperious, didn't he?"

"I'd say that took real guts - "

"Unlike the rest of this bloody school, which goes about - "

"Insulting him and getting mad - "

"When you really should have expected it - "

"He's Harry Potter - "

"And that's a lot to live up to," finished George.  He and Fred had also caught the tag ends of the comments and Harry looking a bit lost sitting alone with everyone against him.

As a great portion of the room split their glares between Harry and the two Weasleys, Fred and George marched down to the eleven-year-old and began eating lunch.

"As of now," whispered Fred, "Don't drink the pumpkin juice."  Harry grinned and nodded as George gave a conspiratorial wink.

A few seconds passed…

"Aak!  I'm turning pink!"

"Look at your _hair_ - "

"What's going on - "

"Percy, your eyes - "

"The Hufflepuff's've got _tails_!"

Everyone who wasn't turning something refused to touch food or drink, and were laughing and gaping by turns.  Soon, the majority of Gryffindor had glowing green eyes; Ravenclaw dignity was scrambled with their hair standing precisely on end; Hufflepuff had bushy or rat-like tails; and Slytherin's were touching skin of a blazingly hot pink.

"Don't worry," whispered George to Harry.  "It wears off - "

"In an hour - "

"Or two.  Y'see - "

"Gred and Forge's Weasley's Wizard Wheezes have to be tested - "

"And so this is the test - "

"I think the product passed - "

"But if the creators live remains to be seen."  The twins ran for it, making Harry wonder for a bit if they really would have to worry about that; the Seventh years who had beaten him up the night before were looking murderous.  Harry shied away from their gaze and hurriedly decided to learn some defensive charms and perhaps ask Moody for dueling lessons.  Even if he didn't like the man, Harry had to admit he needed his expertise.

`````````````````````````````````

(A/N: okei, okei, I know this next part would NEVER happen in real life, but I happen to LIKE Harry being all freakishly sacrificing, and I love to beat up my main characters.  I doubt there will be a chapter in which Harry DOESN'T get hurt, so please bear with me.)

After dinner, Harry hurried to meet Zabini, but he wasn't focusing on occurrences around him; his normally sharp senses didn't notice someone else until a hand grabbed his collar and hauled him against the wall.  The Seventh Years.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have TIME for this today," Harry sighed.  "I have a previous beating arranged.  You can have me when I'm done, okay?"

"Not okay, midget," growled a pink-skinned giant.  "We know who pranked us, and what we do to you is their warning."

"Please," Harry gasped, as a arm covered his jugular, "I have to be somewhere!"  He kneed the teen holding him and cast a quick, general repelling charm before dashing to the dungeons.  They would eventually counteract his spell, but it would take awhile.  He hurried down to meet the thugs before they could forget the contract.  It didn't work out as he planned.

A yowl greeted his ears as he entered the dungeons.  Harry quickly located the source – a small black kitten with bright blue eyes was backed against the far wall by the world's favorite Slytherins.

"I told you what would happen if you broke your word," he bit out as they whirled around.

*

A/N: I wanted to add more to it, but I keep getting requests, and I hate disappointing you guys, but please don't hate me for slow updates!  I have tests and dance and all sorts of stuff.  And I have a time restriction here too.

Please review for me.  It's just about the only thing that gives me warm fuzzy feelings.

Hmm…if anyone from the website Psyke is floating around this story, please contact me.  I need to know something.  Thank you.


	7. Spelled Parchment

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N: So sorry I took so long!  I'll try to do better, and I've already written one and two halves chapters in one night (three stories will be updated on the same day, only I haven't finished them yet – by the time this is posted they'll all be done though.)  Ah, the marvels of dedication!

Now, RER (Read, Enjoy, Review)!

Chapter 7 – Spelled Parchment 

About five seconds later Harry was done and was holding the purring kitten gently.  Poor little thing belonged to one of the Gryffindors; he would return it.

"Poor kitty," he crooned softly to it, "Don't worry; they'll be in no mind to bully anyone for a long time.  I prob'ly should have done it from the first," he sighed, "but I do need discipline.  Then again, the Seventh Years are way more than enough - "

"Mr. Potter!" screeched a new voice from behind him.  Harry sighed again.  McGonagall.  "No fighting means no fighting, Mr. Potter!  And you are far more advanced than they are.  I never imagined a First Year _Gryffindor_ to be a bully, but then, all my First Years truly belonged in the House they were placed!"  Harry squeezed his eyes shut.  Just like the Dursleys.  He tried to do well and people assumed the wrong thing.  Always.  "30 points from Gryffindor, and three detentions serving under Professor Snape.  Now go to your common room.  Disgraceful."  Harry nodded tiredly and trudged away; kitten tucked safely away in his arms.  As soon as he was sure she couldn't hear him, Harry began yelling while the kitten watched with wide eyes.

"This is all my fault!  I should have stopped them, but I'm just useless like the – the … like they always told me.  Do nothing right except make people upset.  And this whole stupid world would be altogether better off without me, but I'm too much of a coward to kill myself!  I'm so stupid.  Don't deserve Fred and George's friendship; defense.  And now the Seventh Years'll be mad at me too…" he trailed off desperately, seeing that his rant had lasted all the way to the Gryffindor portrait hole.

"Gibbet and Blobs," he said sadly.  The fat lady smiled at him.

"Cheer up dearie.  Things'll get better," she chirped softly.  Harry gave her a small smile as she swung her frame open.

"I hope so," he breathed as he entered the common room.  He sat down quietly by the fire to undo a few minor hexes that had been shot at the kitten.  Just as he finished, Matten Badit, a First Year, came in with the rest of Harry's year mates and spotted Harry with his wand pointed at the purring cat.  He ran over, snatched the kitten away, and gave the smaller boy a hard kick; toppling him.

"I knew you were trouble!  Don't you dare come near my cat again!  And unhex her RIGHT NOW!"  Harry looked at him before snapping back.

"I can't."  He glared as Matten opened his mouth again.  "I can't and I won't because I was unhexing her when you came in!  Where were you when she was - " he broke off and wiped at his bloody nose, which had been bashed against the floor when Badit attacked him.  "Nevermind.  Hope I didn't bother you," he said bitterly.  And he vanished out the portrait hole.  Ron, whose eyes were gleaming nastily, turned to Hermione.

"Have we read that parchment yet?"  She shook her head. (A/N: 'shook head' means 'no'.  I hate it when people substitute it for 'yes' sometimes as well.  Too confuzzling.)

"No, but perhaps we should.  We need the countercurse to whatever it is that he did anyway."  Hermione went to her room and returned with a few rolls of parchment.  Saying a few words, she unrolled the first and heard Fred and George:

_"Heya, Harry!"_

_"Feeling any better?"_

"Hey!" Lavendar Brown interrupted.  "I thought that thing only wrote down the stuff!"  Hermione smiled smugly.

"Right.  But I had an idea, so Jessica – the Seventh Year who did the spell – modified it for me, so now we can hear it and identify voices."

"So you've gone and spied on Harry's life now, huh?" a scornful voice cut through the scroll depicting the boy's morning chatter.  The twins stood in the entryway, livid with barely constrained fury.

"Just listen to it, will you?" sighed Hermione.  "Harry may have hexed his - " She nodded at Matten.  " – cat, and we need the curse he used."

"Besides, now you'll see what we have to put up with!" shouted several people in the back.  Gryffindors of all ages began to gather and listen to the Potter boy's dialogue.  The twins settled down, still scowling, and the entertainment was interspersed with the listener's comments as it was confusing since the magic hadn't recorded pauses between one talking session and the next.  Unfortunately, Harry walked in as the first magically recorded after-dinner scene occurred.

_"Dungeons.  Five minutes.  Bring Dumb and Dumber."_

_"Don't tell me you like this, Potter?"_

_"No, but I can take it.  And I at least can defend myself before - "_

"FINITE INCANTATEM!" he screamed; voice cutting through the past and ending the spell.  A few people groaned at the end of the interesting part, but went silent when they saw who had stopped their fun.  Several went white as a furious Harry Potter stormed over to the parchments.  "_Incendio_!" he hissed, and the pile went up in flames.

"Hey - " began Hermione, but quailed under Harry's glare.  His face was dead white.

"How _dare_ you.  H – how _could_ you – it – it's my life; leave me alone!  You were doing that pretty effectively before!  I didn't complain!  I never said anything against you!"  Harry was wild; his whispers had grown into shouts and the shouts echoed into screams as tears welled up in his emerald eyes, though they would not fall.  His body was hot; throbbing with tension; his mind was a blank whirl; a wall of hurt, a wall of disbelief; a wall of red fire that blanked his thoughts and would later make remembering his own words difficult.  His body shook with suppressed rage, and everything, everywhere, was tight.  Tight with tension, tight with anger, tight with hurt … tight with disbelief.  He whirled on Fred and George; finger pointing accusing the two thunderstruck thirteen-year-olds.  "And you!  I thought you were my friends!  My very first children friends … " his voice had again dropped to a whisper and he trembled; hurting and burning; _wanting them to hurt_, to know what they had done, to know what he was, to know their wrongs, their crimes, their vices.  He wanted them to _hurt_.  Like they had hurt him.  "Not like I deserved you; ever.  But I thought – I thought - " Harry couldn't finish, and he couldn't see, but he stalked out, still burning with anger and hurt and humiliation and _hurt_.  So much hurt…  As people silently and guiltily moved to their dorms, Hermione cleared up the ashes of her failed project.  Miraculously, Harry had managed to miss one scroll.  She picked it up and began to read.  Soon, her eyes widened.

"Ron, get down here!" she shrilled.  The Gryffindors raced down again; guilt forgotten.  "Listen to this:

_" – this is the test - "_

_"I think the product passed - "_

_"But if the creators live remains to be seen."_

_"I'm sorry, but I don't have TIME for this today.  I have a previous beating arranged.  You can have me when I'm done, okay?"_

_"Not okay, midget.  We know who pranked us, and what we do to you is their warning."_

_"Please, I have to be somewhere!  Repello!_  (A/N: not very imaginative, I know, but whatever.)"

(Cat yowl)

_"I told you what would happen if you broke your word."_

Hermione looked up.  "It's smudged after that until:"

" – points from Gryffindor, and three detentions (smudged out) under Professor Snape.  Now go (smudged out).  Disgraceful."

_"This is all my fault!  I should have stopped them, but I'm just useless like the – the … like they always told me.  Do nothing right except make people upset.  And this whole stupid world would (smudged out). I'm so stupid.  Don't deserve Fred and George's friendship; defense.  And now the Seventh Years'll be mad at me too…_

_"Gibbet and Blobs."_

_"Cheer up dearie.  Things'll get better."_

_"I hope so._

_"Now, let's get those hexes off, (smudged out)."_

"The rest's burned off, but I think we can guess what happened," concluded Hermione.

"And I cannot believe you just read that boy's personal thoughts to the entire House," said a grown and cultured voice from the back of the group.  The students whirled as Hermione set fire to the last bit of parchment.  Professor Snape glared at them all fiercely and stalked up the boy's dormitory stairs, muttering about 'collecting Potter's things.'

"Why's he getting Potter's stuff?" asked Dean after a long period of silence.  Snape appeared again with the boy's trunk levitating beside him.

"He has asked the Headmaster for a bed in the Hospital Wing."

"Taking the invasion of privacy thing a bit hard, isn't he?" someone chuckled.

"He _knows_ about this?!  How long has this been going on?  He asked for a new bed in the Infirmary over an hour ago.  Came in with a bloody nose; hasn't even spent one full night in his dorms, so he wanted to spare people the trouble of worrying where he was since he'd wind up in the Hospital Wing anyway … and you do this in front of him?!  No wonder he ignored me!  Ten points back to Gryffindor," he added in a quiet mutter.  "Who is responsible for this?" he demanded.  Some people pointed to Hermione; others to Jessica Cummings; and some to the First Years as a whole.

"Right," the professor snapped.  "The entire House is to write an apology to Mister Potter, _which I will read through_, and everyone receives a detention with Filch every night for the next month.  50 points from Gryffindor.  This is absolutely ridiculous."  He turned for the portrait hole, and paused, throwing them an evil eye.

"Thank you," he said mockingly, "for proving my longtime suspicion that Gryffindors are more conniving and cowardly than my Slytherins."  He noted the shocked and angry faces.  "You're surprised?" he sneered.  "That makes you stupid too; though _that_ I have known for ages.  You went into a child's private life after you made it hell.  So kind of you, I'm sure."  He swept out, and the portrait slammed shut behind him.

"50 points - "

" – with Filch!"

"Little ass - "

" – too good to live with us - "

"Saint Potter - "

" – apologize!"

" – hey, my eyes have stopped glowing!"

"Shut up, Perce - "

" – can't believe Snape took his side - "

"It was his privacy, and we - "

"But we needed proof - "

" – and you didn't get what you wanted, did you?"

"Yeah, you went and proved he's a good guy - "

"Stood up to defend - "

" – stuffy - "

" – kind - "

" – so small - "

" – brave - "

" – that 'beating' talk was bothering me - "

"Why'd he have to burn it?"

"And we'll never know the full story - "

"Oh yes you will!" shouted Parvati Patil; making herself the center of attention.  "We made copies!"  The crowd roared in approval.

"Three Sickles a copy to be given out on Sunday!" Lavendar assured the students.  Hermione was silent a bit with her disgust.  But she had to say something.

"SHUT IT!"  The room was quiet.  "How dare you?  What we did was wrong; I know that now.  I knew it then, but I did it anyway; blinded by prejudice.  But this is worse.  You know how upset he was; how could you do that to him again?  Besides," She nodded at the two girls.  "You only copied what you already heard and made up the rest to make him look like a prick – I saw you, so don't even try and deny it!  We are the ones who lost 50 points and we brought it upon ourselves.  Do you think I like a stain on my record?  I should think NOT!  And how would you like it if someone did to you what we did to Harry?  So far as we heard I am more impressed with Harry and the way he's not tattled on anyone far more than I am with our behavior in the last few days.  Now, I'm going to bed before anyone makes me hex them."  As she left, Fred and George began to clap.  Ron looked as though he might, but only Fred, George, Jessica, Neville, and a few others were applauding Hermione's impromptu speech, so he didn't, but rather cast a wistful glance at the braver children who dared to be the different that he had helped to try and stamp out through the persecution of Harry.

*

A/N:  Wow!  Seven pages; I'm so proud.  I really like this chapter…tell me what you think!  REVIEW!

        September 25th was my Birthday!  Yay!  Fifteen at last!  And I'm already into sophomore year too…hmm…I'll never be eighteen while in high school…odd.  Thank you for all the wonderful reviews!

        There are more important things occurring, though.  Really, if anyone from the website Psyke hangs out on ffn.net, please contact me.  Especially if you know or are Manchester_United_Fan (Lee).  I miss him; though he's probably forgotten me.  We only spoke once or twice.

        If you are from ANY self-harm group or on your own, please feel free to write me.  I suck at counseling and I guess I'm not all that nice, but…nevermind.  I'm probably just saying that to make myself feel better (it's two days after I typed this chapter up and you have no idea how depressed I am at the moment – my subconscious is so going to kill me for actually posting this message – I overreact and overstate everything, and I'm sorry for wasting your time and – god.)  Anyway, I suck, life sucks, and I hope yours improves.  Right.

        I have no idea what I set out to do when I began to re-edit this A/N, so I guess I'll leave now, but does anyone know any hacker things to use on Parental Controls for MSN without letting parents know you've done anything?  Please, the situation's pretty bad.

        Now that the weird rants are over…

        Please review; it means the world to me.


	8. Hysterical

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N: RER (Read, Enjoy, Review)!

Chapter 8 – Hysterical 

Apparently the dog had made friends with Madame Pomfrey, as he was waiting to greet him as Harry climbed into bed.

After the boy was asleep, Sirius crept away to check if the castle was rat-proof.  Five minutes following the dog's departure, Harry awoke from his latest nightmare to find a wand at his throat.  Several Shadowy forms had surrounded his bed, and as the boy looked about for frantically foe Sirius a figure ordered him to get up; strongly reminding him of Uncle Vernon.

He didn't rise fast enough, and a fist caught the side of his face and toppled him off his bed onto the floor … only to be halted halfway down by one of the strangers seizing his hair and dragging him out of the Hospital Wing and into a deserted corridor five corners away.

"You are so full of it, bastard," whispered one.

"Wimp - "

"Baby - "

"We like you weak - "

"So pathetically innocent - "

"Naïve - "

"We'll beat you to a pulp - "

"No better than you should be - "

On and on it went as they beat him.  The Seventh Year's punishment for him was harsh, but he'd had worse.  Harry cried out as a delicate rib snapped and then pain lanced down his spine.  A fist flashed to connect with his temple and he saw stars before darkness closed in and he slumped to the ground.

`````````````````````

Harry woke to wetness on his face, which was curious as it didn't feel like blood.  He opened his eyes and suppressed a groan as he tried to sit up.  He found himself gently pushed back by a large dark paw.  Or rather, it would have been gentle had Sirius not been pressing down on the broken rib.  Harry whimpered as tears of pain blurred his eyesight, covering his mouth reflexively to muffle the sound into sobs.  The pressure ceased immediately and Sirius gave him a worried nudge.

"'M all right, Sirius," whispered Harry.  "It's just a rib.  I had worse yesterday … and before that," he added to himself.  He seized a clump of the giant dog's fur in each hand and cautiously stood while the hall began to sway nauseatingly.

"Now," he gasped out, "let's go back to bed."

`````````````````````````

"Oh, my dear, what's _happened_?"  Harry shot bolt upright in bed at the shriek from the doorway and then fell back immediately, unable to stop a yelp of pain from springing forth as Madame Pomfrey strode into his blurry line of vision.  He fumbled his glasses on as Poppy began to instruct him briskly.

"Don't get up if it hurts too much," she said.  She seized his head as he flinched, and examined the bruises appearing on his face.  "What happened?"

"I got up to go to the bathroom last night, and fell down the stairs into some armor," Harry lied smoothly.  Sirius gave him an incredulous look from the floor.  He expected _that_ to be believed?!

"And I should believe you why?" questioned Poppy grumpily.  Harry smiled weakly to the irate nurse.

"Because I'm not going to admit to anything else?"  Sirius released a very un-doglike snort of laughter and grinned sheepishly as the two humans blinked down at him before shrugging.  "It's not bad, Madame Pomfrey, really.  I gotta go to class."

"Not quite, young man," she said, pushing him back down sharply into the mattress.  Harry whimpered as her hand slammed him down, and tried to escape, but his ribs hurt more and he attempted to scrunch into a safer position.  His breath came more quickly and sharply, causing Madame Pomfrey to step forward to apologize and see what was wrong.  Sirius growled; warning her away as Harry started to panic and her voice rose and Sirius' growl became a snarl …

The whole situation was rapidly devolving into something far more dangerous for all involved when a voice interrupted with a Calming Charm.  Sirius and Poppy were immediately lulled, but it took three more charms from Professor Dumbledore's wand to relax Harry enough to sit calmly cradling his ribs without flinching every time the room's occupants moved.

"Sorry," Harry whispered; lying down rigidly on the bed.  "But I _am_ late for classes, and … "  Professor Dumbledore looked grave.

"Harry, who hurt you?"  The boy smiled in relief.  He didn't have to lie.

"I don't know who, sir."

"Could you point them out?"

"Probably.  But I won't."  Sirius growled disagreement at him.  Harry _would_ tell!  The boy shook his head at him.  "No, Sirius."  The headmaster looked up with interest.

"Sirius?"

"Yes, he showed up in my COMC class.  He's my project."

"Hmm … "  Albus fiddled with his wand; toying with an idea as the black dog stared back at him defiantly.  "Stay nearby," he finally warned the dog.  "I have some questions to ask later."  Harry looked on confusedly as his dog deliberately bowed and nodded to Dumbledore, who smiled in a relieved way.

"Sirius?" asked Harry; a remote suspicion brewing in his mind.  The dog glanced at him and realized how odd his manner was, quickly resuming the doggy activity of waving his tail; all the while with a human-like, sheepish grin on his face.  Harry's suspicions were practically confirmed, though he said nothing.

"Now," said Albus, "what exactly is wrong with your chest, Harry?"

"Nothing," said the child hastily.  Sirius barked disagreement and Poppy was quick to remove Harry's shirt, despite the youth's protests.  Harry shrank nervously as a sudden intake of breath came from those around him.  Dumbledore's eyes took in the many scars and both new and fading bruises before looking up to Harry's face, eyes blazing as his aura flared angrily.

"Who did this?"  Harry clutched his pillow, muttering fearfully into it.  "Who?" he persisted.

"I did!" Harry shrieked.  "I like pain and I ask bullies to beat me up and burn myself with things and deliberately fall down staircases and hit myself and cut and - " he was growing hysterical in his lie.  Crying and laughing by turns, Harry tried to make these people believe him.  They were so persistent; no one had ever seemed to care before, except Severus.  But Severus never pushed, never hurt the way this man and this lady did.  Had Harry been able to spend the six years of his life since first meeting the Potions Master with Severus he would have been able to trust; he would have understood that what the Dursleys did to him was wrong, but he hadn't and he _didn't_ know, and now he was paying the price of the Dursley crimes.

Albus hurriedly cast a few more calming charms to soothe the boy before directing Poppy to care for his ribs and bruises.

"You are not attending classes today, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore sternly.  Then he smiled.  "I never said you couldn't get up after you are proclaimed healthy, though.  You have my leave to wander the castle after Poppy is done with you.  However, do not go to the third floor corridor unless you wish to die a most painful death."  Harry blinked; what could be wrong on the third floor?  He nodded anyway, and began a session of hard thinking as Dumbledore took his leave.  Soon enough, Madame Pomfrey was scolding him as he too abandoned her ward when she proclaimed the end of his examination.  

"You should be resting!  I don't know why he - " the door snapped shut behind Harry, cutting her off.  She was forced to open the door a few minutes later to release Sirius because he kept begging.

"Fine!  Go on then!  And keep an eye on the boy!" she hollered after the retreating tail.

```````````````````

Harry dashed out of the Hospital Wing and up a flight of stairs before turning and dashing pell-mell about the empty parts of the castle until he stopped in an empty room before a tapestry.  As he sighed from pure, rare, unadulterated exhilaration, he was surprised to see Sirius run through the tapestry and sit panting at him.  He rushed to the dog.

"Hey, Sir'!  Do you want to play?"  The dog gave a cheery bark and jumped his tiny companion.

```````````````````

Several hours, disgruntled and amused portraits later, Harry and Sirius were admiring a lovely tapestry of a phoenix in flight when Sirius abruptly stiffened and began to turn.

"Stupefy!" came a malicious shout.  Harry whirled in time to see Sirius fall.  The Seventh Years chuckled at his surprise.

"Do you really think we'd let you go unpunished for skipping classes?"

"B – but Professor Dumbledore told me to - " the jarring sting of a slap whipped Harry into the wall.  He glanced up, scared, as they advanced; his nose bleeding freely.  "Right," he murmured, rising and walking into their midst.  "But - "  He was cut off as a fist smashed into his solar plexus.  Harry wheezed, sinking to the ground, his head jerked back viciously.

As the beating was swiftly administered, Harry noticed two slip away.  He was temporarily dropped – in time to see the two bent over a furry body, wands raised.  He screamed then one gave the mutt a vicious kick.

"NO!"

*

A/N:  New chapter will be up tomorrow!  This one was so long I can't finish typing it all tonight, so I split it in half!  Update, or you won't get it!


	9. Blame and Untruths

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N: RER (Read, Enjoy, Review)!

Chapter 9 – Blame and Untruths 

**_Last time:_**

_As the beating was swiftly administered, Harry noticed two slip away.  He was temporarily dropped – in time to see the two bent over a furry body, wands raised.  He screamed then one gave the mutt a vicious kick._

_"NO!"_

~*~*~

The two dog-tormentors were thrown away from his friend by a pair of bright red lights that shot from his hands.  Their wands flew eagerly from their grasp, and a second burst of Harry's power sent the other seventeen-year-olds spinning away; his fury exploding like the proverbial dam.

"Leave Sirius alone!  Don't you dare touch him!  EVER!"  His magic cast an ennervate spell and the dog awoke with a start.  "Leave him alone!  He's good; he's good - " Harry crumpled from emotional overload and huddled back against the wall, away from his tormentors, whispering, and they did not hear in their terror.  "And I'm bad.  'M not a good boy.  Bad, bad, BAD!" he screamed; the last word erupting so that all might know and hear and banish the filth living in their presence.

"He's nuts!" hissed a frightened Seventh Year.  When Harry began to rock nervously, muttering tensely, they ran for it, fleeing down the corridor away from the snapped and broken child.  Sirius hardly noticed their departure, too busy in rushing over to Harry; his nudging and nuzzling interspersed with whimpers.  Harry didn't notice, apart from recoiling from the touch.  He had begun to gasp; eyes wide and unseeing.

Terrified, Sirius revealed his secret, and began to change …

Within moments, where Harry's dog had stood was a thin, full-grown, shaggy-haired man.  He lifted the eleven-year-old and began to rock him slowly, smoothing the unruly hair.

"Shh, it's all right, Harry.  I love you, honey, please speak to me," he murmured, sadly rubbing the thin back.  The boy started with the realization of warmth and comfort.  He turned to see the gaunt man with the soothing words.  Reality kicked in.

"Sirius?" asked Harry.  The man stopped mumbling, alarmed.

"H – how did you know?  Why aren't you running?"

"You act too human to be a dog, and even if you are Sirius Black, you've been real nice to me and - " Harry had been mumbling sleepily into Sirius' ragged shirt, but now he jerked awake again.  "Did – did you just say you … loved … me?"  Sirius frowned at his godson's shock and odd look of hope.  The flare dimmed as Harry took in the frown.

"Yes, I did.  Why?"  Harry ignored the question.

"Wh – what could you – _how_ could you love _me_?"  Sirius was puzzled at Harry's own puzzlement.

"Who couldn't love you?" the man queried.  "You're nice and uncomplaining and gentle and fun.  You - "

"I'm a freak!" Harry interrupted.  Close to yet another bout of hysterics, Harry grew louder despite Sirius' calming pats to his hair.  "I'm selfish and greedy and too small and scrawny to be of any use.  I'm mean and loud and always getting in the way and ruining things.  And I complain about things when I should be grateful and I'm jealous and a FREAK, and everyone should hate me and keep me in line so I can't be bad and - "  Sirius clamped a hand over the boy's mouth and glared.  Harry shied away from the look; causing Sirius to sigh.

"Who _dared_ tell you that?" he asked, voice harsh.  Harry averted his eyes guiltily.

"No one."

"Bullshit."  Harry flinched.  "Harry, as your godfather I have - "

"You're my godfather?  You're my godfather!  Why didn't you take me in?"  Why'd I have to go to the Dursley's?"  Harry's thoughts, still irrational, tumbled out in words and accusations that he knew to be untrue but _had_ to say, and Sirius was caught in the rush.  "I thought you said you loved me.  Well, you probably know better than to do that now," Harry bit his lip.  Severus was the only one who loved him; he had thought that perhaps Sirius might, but … it seemed he had convinced his … godfather? … of how bad he was.  How much trouble.  He had never managed to make Severus believe.  Or at least, that is what Harry thought.

Sirius gazed down at the child with a stung expression.  He gently lifted the boy from his lap and set him on the floor.  He walked down the corridor without transforming, brushing fiercely at tears tumbling down his gaunt cheeks.  He didn't look back, and turned into a dog as he passed the corner.

A sob halted him.  Sirius fought his conscience.  He was angry – he didn't want to go back to that unfeeling … he thought of James and sighed.  He might as well LOOK at the kid, despite his anger.  It was a decision he would never regret.  Sirius went back around the corner, expecting to see … well, something other than what he saw.  Triumph, perhaps; smugness at proving Sirius would cooperate with a spoiled boy's verbal abuse.  But Harry was still in the exact spot where Sirius had placed him, and his breathing was coming in huge dry gasps that seemed to be his expression of crying.  He had hunched over his legs crossed Indian-style and screwed his eyes tight shut.  _That_ got Sirius to change back in a hurry.  He leaned over Harry and shook him gently.

"Harry?  Harry, stop that; you'll hurt yourself."  The boy stopped in mid-gasp.

"Sirius?  Sirius!  I'm sorry!  I didn't mean it!  Please don't leave!"  The green eyes begged him, but they were dry.  Not a single tear threatened to fall.

"I suppose it's fine, Harry.  You were surprised, is all," Sirius sighed, brushing the hair back from those startling eyes.  "Are you okay?"  Harry nodded, confused.  "No fever?"

"No, why would I?"

"You were crying with no tears," said Sirius with a frown, "that's got to hurt, so you wouldn't be doing it voluntarily.  Right?" he asked, suddenly unsure of the answer.

"I can't bring tears," the boy informed him.  "They were there, but they wouldn't come out."

"Why not?"

"I dunno.  But they haven't come since … for a long time."

"How long?" asked Sirius, sad and worried.  Harry thought for a minute.

"Not since I was two."

"Since you were TWO!" bellowed Sirius, shocked.  Harry flinched away, shaking.

"I'm sorry it wasn't sooner, Sirius!" he pleaded frantically.  "I was just too stupid until then to learn to not cry!  Please don't be mad; I won't cry again!"  Sirius reached for Harry, who was edging away, and was doubly surprised when the boy cringed to the floor submissively as he did so.

"Oh, Harry," sighed Sirius, "it's not that; I was just upset, not angry.  And certainly not with you.  But you see, I've never met anyone who didn't cry now and again."  Harry was shocked.

"Really?  I knew Dudley still cried, but I thought that was just because my Aunt and Uncle loved him more than most parents love their children and decided to let him."

"Do they love you?"

"They must," said Harry desperately, "I'm family; they must love me!  Even when - "  He shot Sirius an angry glance.  The man had almost made him tell.

"Do they hit you, Harry?" inquired the Animagus softly.  The youth's eyes flashed dangerously.

"No!  They're the most wonderful people I've ever known!  I'm not telling!" he shouted.  When hurt appeared in his godfather's gaze, Harry sighed.  "I'm sorry, but could we discuss something other than my relations?"

"Of course.  Our previous conversation:  Of course I love you Harry, and you're not nearly so horrid as you make yourself out to be.  Your father was my best friend – do you know why I was in Azkaban, Harry?"  He nodded.

"You are supposed to have blown up a street and killed thirteen muggles and Peter Pettigrew with one curse."  Sirius smiled sadly.

"That's not all.  Everyone believes I was your parent's Secret Keeper in the Fidelius Charm – do you know of it?"

"Yes, it's a charm to hide people."

"Very good.  Wait – how did you know that?  And why _were_ you in that COMC class, anyway?"

"Later.  Story?"

Sirius gave him a measuring look, but obliged readily enough.  "Right.  I was supposed to be their Secret Keeper so everyone then believed I had betrayed them to Voldemort."  His hands clenched in anger.  "But I didn't!  And now – now … they're dead – because of my decision – I told Peter – James.  I told him to use Peter instead; I'd be too obvious.  But that rat handed them straight to that snake-faced lunatic and the next day I tracked him down."  Sirius' voice rose in anger and shame.  "He accused _me_ of the betrayal before cutting off his finger and blowing the street – oh how the muggles were screaming – and he transformed into a rat and ran for it.  That Bast – pardon, Harry.  Just wait till I get my paws on him - "

Harry took this in quietly.  "Are you an illegal Animagus?"

"Yes," said a surprised Sirius, "my nickname is Padfoot; James was a stag we called Prongs; and Peter was a rat dubbed Wormtail.  We did it during our school years so we could help our other friend, Remus Lupin – nicknamed Moony – who is a werewolf.  Took years."  He sighed in memory.  "Moony probably hates me now – do _you_ hate me, Harry?" he added worriedly; for Harry looked murderous.

"No, but I'm going to KILL Pettigrew," he spat.  "He's the reason I'm so messed up - "

"Hey, take it easy, Harry.  Revenge for its own sake is just lowering yourself to his level.  I want it too, but I won't let Peter corrupt me.  James wouldn't want me to become evil and enjoy it; just to exact justice on the perpetrator.  Besides, you don't know how to kill anyone yet, thank god.  You're just a First Year.  Why were you in COMC, again?"

Harry grimaced.  "Sirius, I hate to break it to you, but I'm doing Fifth and Seventh Year Curriculum."  The man's jaw dropped.  "And I already got fair grades on the O.W.L.s _and_ N.E.W.T.s.  I know _exactly_ how to kill someone," he finished dryly.  "Oh, and I signed up for the inter-school competition.  The Ebony Orb, you know."  He leaned forward and cautiously closed Sirius' mouth.  The man exploded into a rash of questioning.

"Why on Earth did you sign up?!  It's dangerous!  Why – _how_ did you ever pass the N.E.W.T.s?  Fifth and Seventh - ?  You've _killed_ someone?!  How much do you know, exactly?  How - "

"I would like to know that as well, Sirius," said Dumbledore.  The duo jumped up nervously, but relaxed at the elder's smile.  "I heard everything, and Sirius, you have no idea how pleased I am that the trust I placed in you was well-founded.  But still, we must find Peter.  Until then you may remain as Harry's dog."  He turned his gaze from the grateful Sirius to the wary boy.  "And how much _do_ you know, Harry?  A great deal more, I presume, than you cared to show us, right?"  Harry nodded guiltily and Albus gave a reassuring smile before turning serious again.  "Harry, I need you to promise me you won't go looking for bullies to beat you up," he said; gently touching the small, bruised face.  "I admire how you are doing it to protect the other children, but you - "  Harry went pale and miserable.

"I'm none of the good things you seem to think I am, sir!  I went to the other three for that too, but I'm selfish!  You don't know how bad a liar and cheater and selfish I am.  I did it for _me_, not anyone else!"  He gasped back a sob, and Sirius watched him worriedly.

"Why would you want to do that, Harry?" asked Albus, sounding concerned.

"Punishment," said Harry, as though stating the obvious, "for being bad and a freak and a burden - "

"Stop that, Harry," chided Dumbledore, not believing the child's sincerity on the subject.  "You know that is not true; you're a very good child with wonderful potential and a bright future, and I don't want to hear such lies again; it only serves for division, and no matter how modest you may be, the other students wouldn't appreciate such a demeaning of your own nature.  Now," he turned to Sirius, oblivious to Harry's stricken expression, "Sirius, we have some matters concerning the old crowd.  The Death Eaters are becoming active again, and - " Harry missed the rest as the two men walked off down the corridor.  He sat again and bit his lip until it bled.  He wiped absently at it; staring at the wall.  His mind was blank – a trick to help him not dry-sob – and he sat there until Sirius came trotting back in dog form.

His godfather tried to lead him into the Great Hall, but Harry refused; though he had missed lunch he wasn't very hungry, and they sneaked carefully into Harry's curtained area of the Hospital Wing without asking the nurse to heal Harry's new assortment of injuries.

He had nightmares again that night, but this time he employed his years of Dursley-fear to his advantage.  At Privet Drive he had learned to avoid noise during nightmares, and he resolved to not let the shield slip now.

Sirius would never find out.

*

A/N:  How's that, eh?  Two chapters in two days – both seven or eight pages long!  Just wait until the next chapter – does DRACO MALFOY mean anything to you? *snicker* Anyway, you better review, because I love them and that makes me happy and flattery shalt always get thee everywhere, so … the answer is obvious.  REVIEW!


	10. Draco Malfoy

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

**_READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE OR NO MORE CHAPTERS!  I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH SOME PEOPLE._**

A/N: You know; the last two chapters have gotten me my worst reviews ever.  *frowns*  That's not very nice.  No flamers.  Nothing that comes close to flamer.  What do you lot know, anyway?  People CAN be hurt that badly, and some ARE.  Pain runs deep, and stop fussing about it.  The hysterical thing?  Harry's NOT INSANE.  He happens to be going through a really difficult period in his life just now; everyone's saying and doing things that contradict how he grew up, and how he was treated by the Dursleys, and then they go right back to doing what he's learned is meant to be inflicted upon him!  He's confused and he's scared, and he's trying to learn how anyone could possibly love *him*.  And hysterics are just like I described them in the damn story.  Sorry if YOU'VE never gone through it, but I have, and I'll thank you to not tell me that poor Harry's insane or stupid, or that it was overwritten/overrated/overdone!  Great, now you've almost made me cry.  I want reviews, but I don't want them if all you're going to do is bitch about my bullying Harry or describing the state of mind of someone abused (no, I'm not myself an abused child, but I try to depict it so LIVE with it.).  It hurts, and personally, I don't think I really need that in my life just now.

On the other hand, not all the reviews were bad.  Thank you Tinanit!  And thanks also to ____no Yami.  I love your reviews, you guys.  Those always cheer me.

RAR (Read and Review).  I usually write back thank you letters if your authorname has an email addy (addy = address).

Thank you to those who DID send nice reviews, and thank you to those who did bother to review, even if it was only to harp on how my chapters are abuse abuse abuse.  Read the summary – ABUSE happens to be listed!  Anyway, I wrote this last year and am typing it up now, so you'll have to live with it.  Personally, abuse stories are one of my main topics of reading – for the abuse.  So it makes sense that I write it, right?  Whatever.  The Ebony Orb competition will still be in the damn story, so just keep your pants on!  It'll come; I just need Harry's life to settle down and take a pattern of sorts.  The bullying will stop soon, so SHUT THE FUCK UP!  I'm tired of being criticized!  Now you've got me ranting again…

Here's the next chapter.

Chapter 10 – Draco Malfoy 

**_Last time:_**

_He had nightmares again that night, but this time he employed his years of Dursley-fear to his advantage.  At Privet Drive he had learned to avoid noise during nightmares, and he resolved to not let the shield slip now._

_Sirius would never find out._

~*~*~

The next day, Sirius followed Harry to breakfast, where the poor dog was immediately set upon by students; all of whom wanted to pat the doggy as Dumbledore had assured them Sirius was not a Grim.

Harry watched the commotion with a small smile from his lonely corner at the Gryffindor table.  This puzzled Sirius; even more so when, as he escaped to Harry, nearly everyone glared at his godson and protested loudly amongst themselves about things like 'famous,' 'unfair,' and 'stupid wonder-boy.'  One girl even went so far as to come up to Harry and demand he give her the dog because 'he would just corrupt the wonderful thing' and that if he wanted Sirius to be happy he would 'give him to someone who deserves and cares for him.'  Harry just looked at his plate.

"I – if you want to, Sir, you can go," he whispered.  Sirius growled in disbelief and nuzzled Harry after deliberately showing teeth to the furious girl.  She ignored the warning and began to drag him off by the collar.  Sirius yelped and Harry whirled around to take in the situation.

"Sirius!" he cried, and glared at the girl.  "Leave him _alone_!  _Accio_, dog!"  He held out his hand and his godfather broke free and sped over to him, drawn by the spell to Harry, who was still wandless.  The students were whispering again and Harry stalked with a startled Sirius to the doors to make his exit.  A girl and two boys entered as he did so, and Sirius watched as the three stared at Harry nervously as both groups halted.  The girl spoke first.

"Harry, I – we – I'm sorry.  I didn't know you'd, you'd … do that for us.  I did something wrong and I know it was bad, but – but I'm sorry."

"Bugger off, Hermione," snarled Harry defensively, "just leave me alone.  I don't need or want your pity.  You lost y our chance when you – all of you," he directed at the silent crowd, "began that stupid crusade against me.  Go away; I'll be gone before too long; I think you could all learn to keep hating me until then."  His parting sarcastic remark rang loudly and with truth as he shoved past the crying trio and slammed the door behind him.  Sirius scratched forlornly at the double doors as Fred and George sadly led Hermione to the table.

`````````````````````````````

Harry closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool stone of the staircase.

"Going to cry, Potter?" came a sneering voice.  Harry looked wearily up to see Malfoy standing over him.  He sighed and sat upright.

"No."

"You look ready to."

"I won't."

"How do you know?  So much better than us that tears are below you?  Your head is really - "

"What good would tears do anyway?  You'll just continue to hate me.  If I cry, you'll have more ammunition."

"That's not your reason," said the blond; cocking his head to the side.  Harry glared; what was wrong with his excuse?

"Nothing was wrong with it, but there's more to it," said Malfoy, and Harry realized he had spoken aloud.

"It's no business of yours, Malfoy," he growled.  Malfoy winced.

"Draco, please.  And of course it's my business; what occurs in this school is my business, and more so when it comes to you, but I can't find _anything_," he sounded frustrated although his face stayed in the famous Malfoy aloofness.

"Why?"  Draco sighed.

"Father is a former (and still) Death Eater.  He's trying to trainme and is having me 'spy' in Hogwarts."  He smirked.  "Like I'll tell him anything."

"Why not?"

"The man makes my life a living hell.  Help him?  Ha!  I'd as soon kill him."  Draco's voice was bitter.  He looked back at Harry.  "Now, Potter, will you answer my question?"  Harry looked away.

"I won't cry because I can't," he said flatly.  Draco looked intrigued.

"How'd that happen?"

"I think I did a case of accidental magic when I was two and made it impossible.  My tears just don't fall," he gestured at his face cynically, "so even if it's okay to cry I cannot."

"Oh.  Fascinating."

"huh?"

"You say you did that at age two?!  How?  No, wait, why?"  Harry glared indignantly at his interrogator.

"What do you mean, 'how?'  I did it; that's how accidental magic works.  It's an _accident_."

"Potter, no one starts accidental magic until they are at least five.  But then, look at you.  you literally defy the laws of magic just by living, forget any other odd stuff.  And I mean it, why?  Why did you stop crying?"

"No business of yours," said Harry tiredly.  He rose and nodded to Malfoy.  "Nice to see you again, Draco.  I find that I enjoy conversing with someone my age on a reasonable level.  Perhaps we could do it again?" he queried; hating himself for this weakness and the painful hope in his voice.  Draco nodded and Harry saw a small, genuine smile playing across the other boy's lips.

"Certainly.  Potions classroom at 10 tonight."  They both turned off to go to their separate classes; Harry feeling happier than what seemed to be a very long while.

*

A/N:  I know it's short, but I'm busy updating several other stories tonight, so…ick.  Anyway, pay heed to the first A/N up top.  I DON'T want anything even resembling a flamer for this chapter!


	11. Sirius Wonders

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N:  Thank you so much to the people who reviewed and supported.  I am truly grateful.  I am sorry about any harsh things I said, because it wasn't very nice of me, even if some of you weren't nice in the first place, I shouldn't have reacted so badly.  Please do be careful about how harsh your criticism is though, especially when you think about saying depressed people are overdoing things.  That would be why they are depressed in the first place – their feelings are too much to handle.  Just … please … watch it.  Some things hurt, because you have no idea what you're talking about.  Thank you to everyone who reviews though, I appreciate the effort.

On the bright side, Snape's in this chapter!  And the competition begins in about two or three (or four) chapters!  (Well, there ARE flying lessons and he has to get tested to be in the competition, and the schools have to arrive, etc.)  Thanks for reading the A/Ns!

Here's the next chapter.

Chapter 11 – Sirius Wonders 

**_Last time:_**

_"Certainly.  Potions classroom at 10 tonight."  They both turned off to go to their separate classes; Harry feeling happier than what seemed to be a very long while._

~*~*~

Sirius caught up to Harry before he reached HoM (History of Magic).  The boy seemed pleased about something, though the dog couldn't for the life of him see why.  His attention was quickly distracted however as Harry began to diligently take notes and the other students settled in their seats.

The class was as dull as he'd expected, but instead of sleeping, most of the students (all Fifth Years) seemed to be discussing something.  The first paper wad caught Sirius by surprise, but Harry had obviously anticipated the throw because his hand shot out and caught it as it bounced off the alarmed canine's head.  He stuffed it in his bag and caught the next paper as it sailed toward him.

After that, there were far too many missiles to catch, so Harry tried to ignore them and concentrate on working.  He was in a foul mood as class ended.

"But that's quite alright, isn't it?  After all, we get to have Transfiguration next," said Harry bitterly.  It didn't take long for Sirius to discover why he was so upset.

"Potter!" barked McGonagall as he walked in.  "What is that DOG doing here?!"

"Professor Dumbledore said it was alright, Professor, and I don't really have any control over him," said Harry helplessly.  Sirius growled at the pleased expressions on the seated students' faces.

"Don't need rules, now do you, Potter?" shouted one.  McGonagall didn't do anything, and by her glare it appeared she had a huge dislike for the boy.  Harry stared at the ground as she banished Sirius to wait outside the door while she taught.  The dog unhappily complied and listened as the woman yelled at his godson again and again.

"Potter!"  Sirius winced as it started again and the class laughed.  "Pay attention and stop perusing ahead in the book!  What was I just talking about, boy?"

"The dangers of trying the Animagus Revelo spell," came Harry's subdued voice.  "You said basically that if the position is not done correctly the spell can react with possible remnants of other spells and - "

"Did I ask for elaboration?  The first sentence was fine Mr. Potter, please cease bragging over all you know."

"But I wasn't!"

SLAM!

"Silence!  Ten points from Gryffindor Potter, for your cheek and backtalk.  Now apologize!"  Sirius started.  _That_ was a new punishment, and it would get Harry into trouble.  The boy was stubborn when he got upset and he could hear Harry's harsh breathing from the other side of the door.

"Apologize," McGonagall hissed; voice harsh and unyielding.

"I apologize for my cheek, Professor McGonagall," Harry said loudly.

"Better."  She resumed her lecture.

The next fifteen minutes passed similarly before the bell rang and Sirius looked up in time to see someone shove Harry as he fled the Transfiguration room.  The tiny boy flew into him heavily.

"Sorry Sirius," grunted Harry as he rose, but something slammed into the small of his back and Harry's neck whiplashed as his nose _cracked! _down hard on the stone floor.  Darkness enveloped the boy and he embraced it.

```````````````````````````````````````

Sirius licked Harry's face anxiously.  He whined and pawed the air as he began to panic again, but stilled as the boy stirred.

Harry's eyes opened in time to shut again as a tongue swiped down.

"Sirius?  Wha - "  He winced as he got up; his face HURT, and he could see blood on the floor.  He glanced at his watch and paled:  He was late for Potions.

Harry leapt up, horrified, and staggered as he ran, Sirius anxiously barking as he dashed along beside him.

Harry dodged into the classroom two minutes later, panting as his head spun and blood dripped onto his robes as the cut on his broken nose reopened.

Professor Severus Snape didn't bother to turn from the board as he heard Harry dash in.  He heard snickers from behind him and sighed inwardly.  Well, he had told Harry to get in trouble if he wanted to talk…

"You're late, Potter," he sneered with his back still turned.  "Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention at eight tonight.  My office.  Now sit and copy down the notes you missed."  He heard the thump of Harry's cauldron as the small boy complied and listened to the snickers increase.  He also heard a snarl.

Whirling about, Snape's eyes widened as they fell on a large black dog with long, dripping fangs.  The beast snarled at him as two small hands held it back.

"No, Sirius!  Stop it!" Harry whispered fiercely, his eyes on the floor.  "Bad dog!"  Sirius stopped growling in shock and blinked at Harry.  Bad dog?!  He was the kid's godfather!

Snape's eyes had narrowed again.

"Potter, restrain that mutt!  I will deal with your detention immediately after class instead of tonight."  His eyes prowled the room.  "What are you lot staring at?  Get to work!"  The students hastily turned away, though snickers erupted occasionally from the braver and more confident among them.

Severus turned back to the board to complete the list of ingredients.  What did Harry want to talk about?  Maybe his house had pulled another 'trick.'  He snarled at the thought and the class jumped collectively and worked even faster.

Snape prowled the room for half the class before turning toward Harry's secluded corner.  If he didn't yell at the youth in his classes people would be suspicious … he halted and lifted a ladleful of Potter's potion.  Flawless, the mixture dripped and sloshed as he examined it.

"It'll do," he growled as if in anger.  The dog seated on the floor bared his teeth.  "Well?"  Snape asked menacingly.  "Aren't you going to say anything?"  Harry still didn't look up.

"Thank you sir," he said softly to the table.  Snape felt like sighing.  Did the boy _want_ him to yell?

"Gloating aren't we?  Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Potter!"  Harry shook his head wordlessly.

"I know why he won't listen, Professor," sneered a Fifth Year Slytherin girl from behind them.

"Yes, Michelle?" Snape purred, glaring nastily at Harry.

"He's a bloody wreck, and I think the beating affected his hearing."  She smirked at the trembling boy and the class laughed, making Harry shrink back in his seat.

"What?!"  Snape snatched Harry's arm and knelt before the boy so he could see up into the youth's eyes.  "Oh Merlin," he hissed in shock.  Harry's face was caked with blood; his nose was broken and bleeding sluggishly, as were his lips, which had apparently been torn scraping across the sharp edges of his cloak clasp.  The child turned his face from Snape's concerned gaze.

"Class dismissed!" snapped the Professor, standing abruptly.  He seized Harry as the boy turned to make good the offer.  "Potter, you're staying with me.  I have a few choice words about your disruptions," he snarled.  The students laughed as they left hurriedly, but as soon as they were gone, Snape cast a Silencing Charm so no one would hear when he turned and touched Harry's nose worriedly.

"Who did this?"  Harry shrugged a response uneasily and Severus grew irritated.  "You know perfectly well who, Harry.  Now tell me.  You cannot keep letting them get away with this.  You have been in the Hospital Wing ever since you arrived."  The dog barked as though in surprise and Snape looked at it in a confused way.  "What is with that mutt anyway?"  Harry looked at Sirius and the dog shook his head at him.

"I'll tell you later," he murmured.  "And this time I truly don't know.  They attacked me from behind."  He rubbed his back ruefully.  "That's why I was late.  I hit the floor too hard."  Severus pondered for a moment before nodding.

"Alright, I believe you.  Be more careful though and just ignore the ostracism.  It'll die down eventually."

"Doubt it," said Harry bitterly.  He turned and considered his dog for a moment.  "Severus?" he asked suddenly, "Are you my friend?"  He waited with baited breath.

"Of course," said the surprised Snape.  "I've been your friend for years.  Even now I am trusting you with my life.  Why do you ask?"  Harry looked shocked at the revelation before he blinked and returned to the subject.

"Well, there's someone else who's trusting me right now…"

*

A/N:  Duhn duhn duhn!  Next Chapter: Snape Meets Sirius.  Actually, I'll probably give it a different title, but I HAD to give you guys a hint as to what Harry's revealing!

I really am so sorry it took this long to update, but … I dunno.  It's been hard to get around to.  I promise to try and do better!  This chapter is almost the last of what I wrote last year for this story, and I'm trying to think up ways to continue all of my stories.  Hey, guess what?  I got an invite to the Semi-Formal!  Me!  You know, horrible at Social-ness?  Really though, I'll try to do better in the future; please keep reviewing!


	12. Meetings

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N:  Do me a fav?  Darak (who gave me that flamer I ranted about a few chapters ago) wrote me again.  Check out his/her review and tell me what you think.  I don't know who to believe anymore.  Me … or my reviewers.  A lot of you seem to be saying the same things, but they're not the things I had planned, or even want.  A little advice?  And … no flamers.  I can't stomach it right now.  Literally.  I may yet have to visit the toilet bowl my dad just cleaned.

Thanks ever so much to those reviewers whom I am now in correspondence with (there's several) and to everyone who keep backing me up for yelling at all the Chapter 8 and 9 criticisms.  You guys are really great, and you'll never comprehend the extent of my thanks, which stretch the bonds of forever.

I really, truly, honestly apologize for taking so long, but I can't promise not to keep taking so much time.  I'm sorry, I just … don't much care about anything anymore.  The story sucks anyway … I do try though … Gods, I'm sorry………

Anyway, here's the next chapter.  I hope it's good enough to pass inspection.

Chapter 12 – Meetings 

**_Last time:_**

_"Well, there's someone else who's trusting me right now…"_

~*~*~

"Well, there's someone else who's trusting me right now," he began and Snape strode to Sirius and began to pet the angry dog before it could growl at him again.  Swept by doggy instincts, Sirius wagged his tail and gave Snape a lick before surrendering to pleasure heaven as he was scratched behind the ears.  Harry started laughing before he could get the rest of his explanation out.  Severus observed his young friend in amusement as he got in touch with Sirius' 'doggy-side.'

"I haven't seen you laugh this hard since I accidentally added that dragon's breath to the medical potions and blew our lab up - " he frowned indignantly as Harry let out another howl of amusement.  " – so what on earth could possibly be this funny?"

"Sirius – Sirius," Harry gasped between giggles, "He's the person (_laughter_) who's trusting me!" Snape stopped in mid-scratch and Sirius realized that he had _licked_ the Potions Professor in a fit of doggy joy.  He leapt away, yelping as Snape paled.

"He's an Animagus?"

"Yep!  Severus, meet my escaped convict-who's-actually-innocent-godfather, Sirius Black.  Don't attack," he added hastily as Severus drew his wand.

"What do you mean?  He murdered your parents, the filthy - "

"I did no such thing," snarled Sirius as he transformed, "and I cannot believe you _pet_ me."  The two men shuddered simultaneously, though Snape kept his eyes and wand cautiously trained on Sirius.

"We've talked to Professor Dumbledore; he believes Sirius, Severus.  Please just let me tell you what happened," pleaded Harry at the dangerous expression on his friend's face.  Not wanting to frighten Harry, Snape sighed and nodded fractionally, but kept hold of his wand.  Harry still eyed him warily as he related Sirius' predicament.  When done, his expectant glance caused Severus to lower his wand; though not without a hostile glower at Sirius.

"I believe you, Harry."  He glared viciously at his childhood enemy.  "But Black, if you _ever_ hurt Harry … " he let the threat hang.  Sirius regarded him in surprise.

"Of course.  He's my godson; I would never do anything to hurt him."  He glanced between the duo.  "What's the story between you two anyway?"

"Give a minute, Black," growled Snape.  "Your godson is bleeding all over my dungeons."  He stalked over to Harry to heal his broken nose, and watching, Sirius decided to ask something that had been bothering him.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" asked the boy drowsily in the aftereffects of Severus' healing magic.

"Why is everyone picking on you?"  Harry averted his eyes angrily.

"Nothing," he said flatly.

"To you it may be nothing, but you need friends, Harry.  No child can go without them; it will just make you bitter.  Why did you brush off those three and mealtime today?  They were trying to be nice and you really hurt their feelings."

"I doubt it."

"Harry, why don't you apologize?"  The emerald gaze swung around to fix on him, horrified and hurt.

"W – what?" he whispered, disbelieving.  He thought Sirius liked him!

"Apologize.  You need friends - "

"I have you and Severus!"

"You need someone your age - "  The look he received was very wounded, though Harry hid it behind his anger.

"No it don't!  I won't apologize!  I'll graduate by the end of the year anyway!  And why would I want to go beg for friends?!"

"I never said beg - "

"You as good as!  I won't!"

"Why not?"

"Nothing."

"Harry," Sirius sighed, "If you don't tell me I cannot be expected to understand."  Harry gave him a brittle look.

"Why would I spill my life to someone who will just hurt me anyway?" he whispered, and left the room.  Sirius looked after him sadly.

SMACK!

"Yowch!" howled Sirius from the floor, "What was that for?!"

"You don't know Harry at all.  And you were worried about me hurting him.  Stupid mutt," reprimanded Snape.  Sirius rubbed his jaw.

"You didn't have to hit me."

"No," Snape said, "But I've been dying for an excuse."

"Well?" demanded Sirius as he rose.  "If you know so much about Harry, then why exactly _are_ the students picking on him?"

"The students are … envious of Mr. Potter's abilities.  They berate him incessantly and his House played a rather nasty stunt on him - "

"What did they do?"

"…"

"Snape, tell me!"

"Calm down.  They used a spell found by Miss Hermione Granger to write down absolutely anything he says or is said to him.  Harry burnt it before they read everything, but his only friends here had been in on it.  He's probably feeling betrayed right now.  He never had many friends."  Silence ensued before Sirius spoke up tentatively.

"How did you two meet?"

"He was four years old, and I was in downtown London to have lunch.  A street urchin ran by me and some other child shoved him into the street.  I saved his life and later learned that he was magical when he saw the Leaky Cauldron.  I actually thought him just a muggle-born named Harry until I brought him to Hogwarts … "  Sirius fired off questions, and before either man realized it, a half hour had passed and it was time for Snape's next class.  Harry still hadn't returned, and as Sirius had no clue as to where his little companion might be, he spent the rest of the day in Animagus form, watching the Potions Professor grade papers (or rater, draw red lines and hand out F's liberally).

Finally, the classroom was empty of students packing in extra study time, and Snape's last paper was completed.  Sirius became human again and sat in front of the man.  Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Well?  I told about Harry; now you tell me how you escaped."  Sirius nodded tiredly.

"Fair's fair…"

Sirius had, upon seeing an article in the paper he'd taken from Minister Fudge, taken off immediately for Hogwarts; slipping through the bars in dog form and swimming back to the mainland.  The article in question had been one of Harry Potter; who was to start this year at the most renowned wizarding school in the world.

No papers had, as of yet, reported his escape because Minister Fudge didn't want the bad publicity.  It had definitely worked to Sirius' favor.

Hoping to find Harry, Sirius had snuck into a crate (after emptying it of its Acromantula) and had, much to his surprise, been assigned to Harry!  The rest was easily told, though Snape asked extensive questions on how he had traveled and lived through the dementors with a sound mind and live (if not in very good condition) body.

The talk spanned over an hour until Snape's hand suddenly clamped down on the blue-eyed Animagus' mouth and dragged him behind the desk.  Sirius would have protested, but Snape didn't appear to mean any harm by the action, and simply motioned for his silence.  Peering around the bottom of the desk, Sirius saw why.

A pale blonde boy walked into the classroom and sat on a desk, looking impatient.  A few minutes later, the boy turned to leave when Harry entered.

"You came," said the blonde in surprise.  Harry nodded.

"Sorry I'm late, but the Seventh Years caught me again."  The other looked alarmed.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine.  What did you want to know?"

"Why did you agree?  You know who I am; who my father is.  Why did you meet me?"

"I suppose I just wanted some company … even if it does ridicule me."  Harry paused.  "Draco," he asked cautiously, "What do you think of me?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Do you think I'm stuck up?  Do you want to know me better?  Am I someone people would waste time on?  Who do you think I am?"

"I don't think you're stuck up at all, Harry," said Draco, unusually honest.  "I already said that I want to know you; I like you; and I have no idea who I think you are because that's why I want to know you in the first place."  Harry blushed and Draco laughed.

"Well," Harry said when the blonde quieted.  "What do you want to know?"

"How you grew up; what muggles are like.  Where you went to school and how the Muggle world works.  For example: what is a caldabator?"

"A what?"

"A cantamator.  It is supposed to do math."

"Do you mean a calculator?"

"That's what I said," complained Draco.

"No you didn't."

"Anyway," Draco said, blatantly ignoring the last comment, "how does it do the stuff with no magic?"

"Well, I think there must be some sort of programming or microchip in it … "

The discussion of Muggle items went on for an hour before Harry pleaded off and left for bed.  Draco held back and looked over at the desk.

"Both Harry and I knew you were behind there, Professor," he called, "only, Harry said we shouldn't let on.  I want to talk with you and Mr. Black though."  Snape rose, and he and the dog came out from behind his desk.  Draco smiled thinly.  "I know the mutt is Sirius Black.  I also know that he is not a Death Eater, and as Harry seems to think so highly of both him and you, Professor, I would like to speak with you."

"And what if," asked Snape darkly, "I informed you that your assumption was incorrect?"  Draco swallowed visibly, paling.

"Y-you can't do anything here," he stammered, "not with Dumbledore around."

"And what do you think of the Dark Lord, Draco?"

"I don't want him back," said the Malfoy in a rare – and dangerous – show of bravery.  "He'd make me become a Death Eater, and I'd be put in the training program earlier.  I don't want to learn how to kill people."  Snape watched him for a moment before nodding.

"Your assumptions were correct," he said softly.  "But," he added, "If you should ever decide to betray us to your father … "  Draco shivered in no slight fear.

"Or if you betray Harry," Sirius growled as he regained his human form.  "And Malfoy, you don't want to get me angry."  The small blonde nodded fervently.

"Now, what is it you wanted?" asked Snape, smoothly cutting off Sirius' intimidating advance.

"I wanted to know what's so special about Harry.  Why's he in possession of all these weird powers?  And why won't he talk about his family?  It must be great to have people always treating you like you're special; he saved the world after all.  It must be hard for him right now with everyone picking on him, but he's taking It well."  Severus just looked at him ruefully.  "What?"

"Mr. Potter's home life is not that with a caring family, Mr. Malfoy.  Although they do not abuse him, they definitely do not approve of the fact that he is wizard-born.  In fact, they attempted to prevent his appearance at Hogwarts; hurting him in the process and making him late for the Sorting."  As Draco turned for the door, looking thoughtful, Severus called him back.  "And Mr. Malfoy, don't pressure him and don't betray him.  Be his friend … and try to keep him out of trouble."  The child shot him a 'look.'  "I know.  Just interfere the next time he plays doormat."

"Alright.  Goodnight Professor.  Mr. Black."  Draco nodded to each and left.  Sirius followed soon after, and then Snape had locked up for the night.

Hogwarts settled down to rest; the quiet seeming peaceful and the shadows friendly to tired and happy students.

But that's not how it looked to those waiting; tense and full of pain.  From homesickness, from injuries, from depression or a fight with a friend.  It was not possible for some to achieve happiness at the same times as others, unique viewpoints colliding to achieve rest for some, and insomnia for others.

And yet, with luck, heart, and magic, perhaps those sorrowing would find their comfort soon.  Perhaps they would gain their strengths.

They could always hope.

*

A/N:  I am really really really sorry this took so long, and all I can plead is that you don't all behead me.  I'll try and update soon.  I guess that's it.  Write back to me on the Darak thing, okei?  I'd really like to know what you think, but please don't make it a flamer.

Ummm … how'd you like the ending?  This chapter was seven or eight pages (I'm so proud), but I have seen longer (MUCH longer).

Review!


	13. To Fly

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N:  Sorry I took so long, but my teachers seem to think winter break is the last time they'll see us and I've been really busy.  Lots of tests.

Oh hey, I got a beta reader!  Say thanks to Serpent of Light everyone!  She's also on FictionPress as Kendra Seer.  I'm there too as tati-tenshi.

Thanks for all the reviews and support; please keep them coming!

Jeez, I'm cheery today… 'tis a snow day for me!  Everyone else gots to go to school, but I live on a snowed-in mountain so I hath all the luck!  *parades around happily*  Though I will miss the end of the Zorro movie in Spanish II … ah well, maybe I can rent it.

I hope you all have a good day,

tati1

Chapter 13 – To Fly 

**_Last time:_**

_And yet, with luck, heart, and magic, perhaps those sorrowing would find their comfort soon.  Perhaps they would gain their strengths._

_They could always hope._

~*~*~

Harry woke to a soft tap on his shoulder, emerald gaze snapping aware to fix upon a silver-blonde form.

"Draco," said Harry, surprised.  "What are you doing here?"

"I came to wake you for breakfast, if you have no objections, Potter."

"Thank you," said Harry, always polite.  "And it's Harry, not Potter."

"Whatever you say … Potter."  Harry looked at him uncertainly.  "I was teasing?"  Harry blinked.

"Oh.  Sorry."

"It's not your fault," said Draco, sounding almost gentle.  He was quick to resume his bossy nature though.  "Come on, move it.  I'm going to miss breakfast."  Harry hastened to the bathroom to get changed, and Draco amused himself with scratching Sirius' ears until he returned.  "Are you ready?"  The smaller boy nodded and followed the blonde out to the Great Hall.  Draco led Harry to the Slytherin table and pushed him onto the bench.

"Sit and eat," he ordered.  Several of the Slytherins were looking a bit mutinous at the dark-haired boy situated at their table and Harry looked back nervously, not touching the plate Draco had shoved over.  The Malfoy growled in frustration.  "Did I say eat or was I hearing things?" he snapped.  Emerald eyes narrowed at him and Harry folded his arms stubbornly.

"Why do you want me to?  Why are you being so nice, anyway?  I mean; you want to know about me.  Fine.  But what's with - ?"  Draco cut him off; looking amused.

"It's called friendship, Harry." He watched Harry's expression, which bounced easily from fearful to hopeful and back again before the boy regained control of his emotions and smoothed his features. The Malfoy gave him a proud smile though Harry didn't really notice.

"Now eat," ordered Draco. "I won't repeat myself again." Harry gave a small smile and picked at his food thoughtfully.

Friendship? But, what was that, exactly? With Severus he had friendship, but with another kid ...? He had tried that, and look at what happened. The Weasley twins had used him; his House had intruded upon his carefully-won privacy; his Head of House hated him for reasons unknown ... and who would want to be friends with him, anyway? He wasn't worth anything; the Dursleys had drilled that firmly into his two-year-old mind ever so long ago ... so why was Draco trying? What were his motives? To learn about Harry, about the Muggle world ... he could do that without catering to a wimpy eleven-year-old ... Harry shook his head in confusion, and glanced at the blonde, who was watching him with an openness that must have surprised even the Malfoy heir ... And in that moment, Harry found himself trusting, and wanting to trust, and he turned back to his food with a bigger smile than before. Friends ... It had a nice ring to it.

``````````````````````````````

"We have flying lessons today," said Draco as he met Harry in the Great Hall for Lunch.  "I can't wai – hey, what's wrong?"  Harry shook his head, looking depressed, and moved to the corner of the Slytherin table, Sirius trailing behind him.  The dog looked upset as well, and shot looks at Draco.  'What is it?' the blonde mouthed.  The dog darted its eyes from Harry to the Great Hall doors, to the students and back again.  Draco got it.  "Have they been bothering you again?" he asked Harry, furious.  The ebony-haired boy frowned and looked away.

"No," he said flatly.  The lie in his voice was obvious, especially as a bruise was beginning to form on his thin cheek.  Draco looked ready to kill someone.

"Who?" he demanded.  "I'll kill them!"  Harry's head shot up, startled.  He grabbed the angry youth and restrained him.

"No!" he scolded.  "It's not worth it; nothing happened!  Stop that, you're making a scene!"  With surprising strength for a child who looked so frail, Harry forced Draco to sit down, ignoring the curious glances shot by several of the students.  "Calm down; what were you saying about flying?"  Huffing, Draco shot him a glare but stopped fussing.

"First flying lesson is today, next class.  I've been flying since I was really little, and I want to be there early.  Come with me?"  Harry nodded.

"Sure.  I've never flown before, though …"  Draco brightened.

"That's okay, it's easy!" he exclaimed.  "All you have to do is …"  Harry listened and nodded, and was surprised to find himself relaxing, albeit only slightly, as Draco's chatter eased his hurt mind.  He smiled at the enthused blonde, and managed to easily dodge eating lunch.  His stomach wasn't too steady after that fifth year had made him eat a Pufferpod in Herbology …

``````````````````````````````

"Flying is a difficult art," snapped Madame Hooch, the Flying Instructor.  "I do not expect much, but in order to keep yourselves from breaking bones, please follow my instructions.  Should you choose not to do so, detention with Caretaker Filch will look pleasant."  Several of the students winced, though Harry wasn't among them.  He was looking at the broom he was standing next to.  It looked a mite big … The teacher interrupted his worried musings.  "Hold your wand hand over the broom and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" shouted the class.  Harry's broom thwacked solidly into his palm, and the boy eyed it warily.  It was giving off an aura of … glee?  He frowned at it.  There was no way some evil broom was going to get the best of him!  The aura subdued under his glare, and the broom actually felt meek.  He nodded with satisfaction.  It would behave.

"On my whistle, throw your leg over the broom and hover for a count of two before touching down," instructed Madame Hooch.  "One, two, three -"  An accident-prone Gryffindor Harry remembered as Neville Longbottom launched early, and his terrified shout echoed down as everyone stared.  Draco muttered something about incompetent teachers as he leapt upon his own flying tool and chased after the terrified boy.  Harry followed him, and found, to his delight, that this was easy!  It was _wonderful_!  He grinned and flew past a startled Draco to grab the front of Neville's broom on the left side.  There was a pause as Draco caught up and seized the other end, and together they pulled the shaky boy to earth.

Neville promptly rolled off his broom and enveloped the two in a hug.  Harry yelped and Draco froze.  Neville didn't seem to notice, but let go only to grin at them and do it again.  Draco shook his head in exasperation.

"_Gryffindors_," he muttered, but with no real heat.  "Longbottom, get _off_ me!  This is altogether too public for sappiness!"  He pushed futilely at the chubby youth, who merely winked at Harry and glomped Draco extra-hard.  The dark-haired youth actually giggled at the horrified expression on Malfoy's face as he finally shoved Neville off.  "That's it!" he wailed, smoothing his rumpled robes.  "That's the last time I help _anyone_!  Nothing's worth _that_!"  He pointed at Neville accusingly and Harry laughed harder.  Unfortunately, the moment was swiftly cut short as the class ran over to the trio (they had landed on the other side of the Quidditch Pitch) and Madame Hooch loomed over them.

"You three are coming with me!" she yelled, though she looked more excited than anything.  Draco cocked his head curiously and fell into step behind the witch, who appeared to be struggling with a full-blown grin.  Harry and Neville followed, and Hooch called over her shoulder to the rest of the milling Gryffindors and Slytherins, "Class dismissed for today!  Go to your common rooms until your next class, whatever that may be!"

Once inside the Hogwarts walls the witch actually started running, and the three First Years were hard put to keep up with her.  She skidded to a halt at the Hospital Wing.

"Longbottom, inside.  Make sure you didn't suffer any injury," she ordered, and was off again.  Draco sighed, waved a farewell to Neville, and ran to catch up to the departing Hooch and Harry.  Neville blinked, shrugged, and smiled after them.  Maybe _they_ would be his friends …

````````````````````````````

Hooch paused again at Flitwick's classroom.

"Professor?  May I borrow Wood and Flint?" she asked.  Draco started grinning in disbelief.

"No way!" he whispered.  Harry looked at him oddly.  "They're the Quidditch Captains for Gryffindor and Slytherin!" he hissed, looking thrilled beyond belief.  Harry shook his head at the boy.  He was turning out to be far more excitable than Harry had first anticipated.  Perhaps he had been munching Sugar Quills …

His thoughts were again interrupted as two boys emerged from the Charms classroom; the Gryffindor looking confused and the Slytherin impassive, though curious.  Harry watched the two warily.  He remembered them.  They were both in his classes as they were fifth years – Harry was skipping a class a week in order to take Flying – and as such, both were likely part of the factions that laughed at him in class and had essentially made life a living hell for the past two weeks.  His fears were confirmed as Wood glared at him nastily, and Flint sneered.

What he had not anticipated however, was Draco's reaction to Harry's poor treatment.  Upon seeing the rapid paling of Harry's features and the fury on the fifth years', his grin vanished, replaced with a sneer as he stepped defiantly in front of Harry, glaring at the two larger teens.

Hooch didn't notice.  Indeed, she was already halfway down the hall, motioning eagerly for the four to follow her.  Draco made sure that neither of the other boys went behind Harry, and pretended not to notice the sneers Marcus was directing at him.  Harry too was looking at Draco, though there was more shock on his features than anything else.  He was so preoccupied with this sudden twist that he nearly ran into Draco's back when Hooch turned into an office.  Harry looked at the plaque on the door:  _Minerva McGonagall_.

As unobtrusively as possible, Harry slid back to hide behind Draco, who didn't notice, and wished fervently that Sirius were with him right then and not in Dumbledore's office.  It would have been nice to have something warm to hold onto, especially as nice and fuzzy a dog as the Animagus made.  He didn't want to be near his Head of House any longer than absolutely necessary.  The woman had it in for him, and he still hadn't a clue why.

The raised voices that Harry had dimly registered as coming from McGonagall's office cut off abruptly upon Madame Hooch's arrival.

"Minerva, Severus!  Lucky I caught you two in the same place; else I would've had to hunt down the other one!" came the Flying Instructor's unhealthily cheerful voice.  Draco twitched.

"Is she suicidal?" he muttered incredulously.  "Those two together are like a box of firecrackers!"  Wood grinned for a moment before scowling at the upstart little Slytherin, embarrassed at having been caught being nice to 'the enemy.'  The conversation was continuing.

"Don't you have a class right now?" asked McGonagall, sounding exasperated.

"Why certainly.  But never you mind; I dismissed them!"  From the choking sounds, it appeared Snape was having an attack.  "Don't get so uptight, Severus; they won't do anything!"

"So says the witch _without_ volatile potions ingredients lying about her workroom!"

"Snape, get back here!  I have extraordinary news; the reason why I dismissed my class!  And they are standing just outside the door!" Hooch announced triumphantly.  "Draco Malfoy and that Potter are the two most extraordinary talents on brooms I have seen since Higgs!  Potter's as good as Charlie Weasley, once he's trained up a bit!  You have got to put them on the Quidditch teams!  Boys, don't stand there eavesdropping; get in the room!"  The four youths jumped and hastened inside.  The two fifth years were now looking at the younger boys with more speculation then malice.  Obviously talent was something they wanted.  Snape was looking pleased, but McGonagall's expression as she looked at Harry was barely short of what one would call 'murderous,' and the child knew it, staying very, very close to Draco, who was grinning ridiculously at Madame Hooch's words.

"Wood, Flint, the boys are naturals!  How long have you been flying?" she suddenly snapped at Draco.  The blonde grinned even more.

"Since I was three."  The witch nodded approvingly.

"Potter?"  Harry averted his eyes, looking uncomfortable.  Great, now he'd be even more of a freakshow, as if his being alive wasn't bad enough (referring to a certain scar we all know and love/hate).

"First time," he sighed.  The expected reaction came quickly.

"Nonsense!  You were incredible!"

"It was my first time on a broom," he repeated.  "I live with my Muggle relatives.  Even if we had had an enchanted broom, they really don't like magic, so there's no way I would have been able to fly it.  I'm sorry," he said, as Hooch seemed thunderstruck.  She promptly whirled on McGonagall.

"The boy must be on the team, Minerva!  Please, please, please, please, please?!"  The fifth years snickered; the woman was fanatical about the sport.  Minerva looked irritated.

"I'm sure it's nothing Potter should be doing.  He causes too much trouble anyway; he'd never stay on the team with the record he's been creating."  Everyone (but Harry and Draco, who were not familiar with the habits of the Gryffindor Head of House) stared at the Professor in shock; Snape's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Minerva!" yelped Madame Hooch, "My friend, what has happened?!  You were just as devoted as I!  Has someone corrupted you?!"  Draco snorted, but Harry saw McGonagall pale momentarily.

"Not at all; I simply cannot believe that a first year is capable of a spot on the team.  We need someone who will win, which Potter is clearly not," said the female Animagus smoothly, but a nearly audible call of 'LIE' hung in the air.  Madame Hooch didn't seem to notice.

"Well then, let us prove it to you!" she cried happily, and seized Draco and Harry; dragging them back out of the office and to the Quidditch Pitch, the rest of their little group following.

``````````````````````````

"I can't believe we're on the team!" yelled Draco, jumping happily.  Harry smiled slightly, in awe of what a sugar-high Draco was capable of.  He was fairly sure the blonde had had too much dessert in 'celebration' at dinner.  "Me, a Chaser!  In my first year!  That hasn't happened in - "

"A century," Harry finished, his smile growing.  "Yeah, I know.  You said that two minutes ago."

"Can I help it if I'm happy?" asked Draco, grabbing Harry and mussing his hair.  The boy yelped and leapt away, scowling.

"As if it isn't messy enough already … you know, I think I liked you better when you _weren't_ hyper," he muttered.  Draco pouted, and Harry started to look unnerved.  "Draco, don't _do_ that!  That is – really, really eerie.  You're a Malfoy!"  Draco calmed slightly at the reminder.

"Yes, well …"  Harry's gaze was suddenly locked on something behind the blonde.  "Harry?"  He was suddenly pushed aside (not too harshly; no one wants to offend a Malfoy) as three Seventh Years advanced on Harry, whose countenance was now blank.

"Hi," said Harry.  Then, to Draco, "You might want to leave."

"What?" asked Draco, furious.  "You're not going to let them beat you, are you?  You are!  Harry - "  The emerald gaze swept up to his own.

"I need this, Draco," he said simply, flinching slightly as a Seventh Year grabbed him.  "I have to be taught my place."

"No you don't!"

One of the older boys yelled as they suddenly found themselves dancing in circles, courtesy of Draco's Leg-Tangling Curse.  Another was promptly hit with Stupefy, and Harry blinked as Draco kicked the shins of whoever was holding him.

"No one touches Harry!" hissed the gray-eyed child.  "Understood?  Or trust me, your family will be in financial ruin so quick you'll think it was Hell-sent!"  He grabbed Harry and dragged him down the corridor, muttering furiously to himself.

"Deserve it my arse!  Who the fuck has been teaching you such nonsense, Harry?!  You're the nicest person in this Merlin-be-damned school, and you better start figuring out how to be as awesome as you are without getting bullied because _no one_ is touching you again!  You got it?!"  Harry stared mutely as Draco turned.  The other boy was actually crying, looking furious and upset.

"Don't cry, Draco," said Harry softly, shocked.  "Why are you crying?  It's not that big a deal - "  Draco pushed him against the wall.

"Not that big a deal?!  This is your _life_, Harry!  You're my friend!  You're upset and you don't even know it!  _How long has this been going on_?" he hissed, staring at the scarred boy.  Harry averted his eyes.  "Harry?"

"Well, I guess you could say all my life, but - "  Draco released him in horror.

"All your life?!  What - "

"I, erm, I've always been bullied a lot at school.  It was how I was brought up."  Harry wasn't lying; he was simply omitting the Dursley's role in the whole matter.  Who knew how Draco would react if he learned that Harry was such a freak that not even his family cared …  The blonde was shaking his head.

"That's it.  We're going to see Severus."

"What?!"

*

A/N:  Sorry for the delay!  I had a writer's block!  But my beta reader helped sort it out!  *hides behind beta reader to escape angry reviewers*  So sorry!  I should be back on track now!  Oh, how'd you like the chapter?  Things should start going uphill for Harry from here, and the competition will begin in a chapter or three …

Please review!  Updates will be next weekend!


	14. Mine

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N:  Sorry – again – for taking so long, but my schedule was hell!  I had seven tests and a quiz, and a really huge pile of homework all in four days!  (I studied for an additional three).  Sorry!  I can't control what my teachers do!

My beta reader rules, and you all owe her thanks! *glares about*  You better appreciate all she's doing for me…

Thanks for all the reviews and support; please keep them coming!

My hands and knees are killing me:  I tripped and went flying when I ran out of school today, and scraped myself up nicely.  It looked like one of the more spectacular falls you see in AFV…*blushes*  And I was wearing a /really/ short skirt…  *sighs*  Oh well, at least they're bandaged … but let me tell you, it's hell to type with band-aids on!  *laughs*  Now that I've bored you with inane nonsense … On with the fic!

Chapter 14 – Mine 

**_Last time:_**

_"That's it.  We're going to see Severus."_

_"What?!"_

*

Severus had his night planned carefully out.  He would grade papers, eat dinner, taunt Minerva, and then do a new research potion.  He had _not_ planned for a very upset Malfoy, two Weasleys, a Granger, a Longbottom, an innocent escaped convict, and one Harry Potter to systematically interrupt his evening.

It started with the Malfoy and Harry…

``````````````````````````````

Gathering the ingredients for his new potion, Severus nearly jumped as his office door slammed open with a very loud _bang_.  Draco Malfoy burst through the doorway, face tear-streaked, dragging one Harry Potter, who looked to be in a state of shock.  The young blonde shoved Harry into a rather uncomfortable chair near Severus' desk.

"Stay!" he snarled, shaking his finger at the green-eyed boy.  He took a breath and turned to Severus, who was blinking at them.  He looked much more collected.

"Severus, it seems that Harry has a few more problems than he told you about.  _Don't you?"_ he hissed dangerously, whirling back to glare at his new obsession.  Severus saw all together too much possessiveness in that glare, and wondered if Harry would ever have any friends, especially if Draco decided to drive them away … said Malfoy heir cut off his musings as he returned his attention to Snape.  "Have you ever noticed a certain defeatist attitude that Harry has?" he inquired.  "Because, if so, I've just learned the reason why.  Did you know that he thinks he deserves to get picked on this much?  Yes, my sentiments exactly."  Snape didn't notice, too caught up in gaping at Harry, who was looking at them in confusion.  [A/N:  just for the record; Harry's reaction to everything will be entirely plausible, because it is taken from my own experiences when I told my best friend that I cut myself.  So get a clue, people really react this way.  I still don't get she made a big deal out of it…*is puzzled*  Oh well, enough with the history – you're all here to read Harry Potter!]

"You think you deserve it??" asked Severus, placing his ingredients back on the shelves with a soft clinking noise.  He glided over to the emerald-eyed child and stared down at him.  "You think – all this; the beatings, the unfairness – you think it's your fault?"  Harry nodded, unsure of where Severus was going.  Did he hate him for being so weak?

But Severus just paled and dropped into the chair behind his desk, staring at his charge.  "How could you think that?  You're an amazing boy, Harry.  It's everyone else who has problems.  It's not your fault!  You don't deserve what this entire school has been doing to you!  You - "  Harry jumped up.

"Of course it's my fault!  Everything is, you know.  Always.  I deserve everything I get; if - "  Draco shoved him back into his seat.

"Oh shut it, Harry.  Professor, he said that he was bullied a ton at his muggle school when he was little, and that they said that he was worthless, and … all that other nonsense that he says about himself."  He scowled.  "Stupid little muggles hurt him and he believed them!"  Severus nodded slowly.

"I don't think it was just them, Draco.  His relations aren't very nice either – they tried to keep him from coming to Hogwarts, and when I found him all those years ago, he told me he was abandoned in the city as 'punishment.'  They were very neglectful, and the neighborhood kids were prone to attack him every now and then.  I knew that much; he came in with enough bruises and broken limbs, but he never told me that they said anything like that …"  His gaze was remorseful as he looked at the young Potter.  "You need to know that it's not your fault.  I know you don't believe it, but you have to learn to."  His gaze turned calculating; more reminiscent of the Severus Harry was familiar with.  "You now have counseling sessions with me every Monday from five to six.  Understood?"  Harry nodded numbly, and his stare was unbelieving.

"I still don't know why you're so worked up about this, sir," he said quietly.  "It's nothing bad; it just keeps me in my place, you know … like how diets are good for fat people."

"I never thought it would be possible for you to compare yourself to someone of even remote girth," said Draco dryly, his face cleaned of all signs of tears, and his arrogance firmly repaired.  Harry gave him an indignant glance.  Severus chuckled slightly.

"He has a point, you know," he murmured.  He stood again.  "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy.  Harry, I shall see you in my office on Monday, understood?"  A raven-topped head nodded reluctantly, and Severus felt confident enough in that promise to shoo them out the door.  "Good day, gentlemen."  The door slammed behind them.  Harry and Draco stood for a moment, staring at each other.  Draco's face was set determinedly, and Harry's showed increasing nervousness as the blonde observed him.  It changed to panic as Draco again grabbed his arm and hustled him down the dungeon hallway.

"There is no way in hell you are going anywhere without me anymore," he muttered, scowling.  "Come on."  Harry had to run to keep up with his 'friend's' longer strides.

"Draco … where are we going?" he queried, uncertain that he wanted the answer.  The blonde grinned at him and shoved him along.

"To my dorm room, of course."  For the second time that night, Harry was floored.

_"What?!"_

```````````````````````````````

Still dazed by his visit from Draco and Harry, Severus was by no means pleased when there was a knock on his door.

"Who is it?" he snapped irritably.  The door creaked open, and four heads poked around the frame, gauging his mood.

"Sorry Professor," said Hermione Granger quietly, her head above Neville Longbottom's and below the identical twins, Fred and George Weasley's.  "We can always come back later if it's a bad time …"  Snape waved her into the room.

"Get in here.  I doubt I'll want to deal with you brats later either.  Better now than when I'm in a good mood.  You can't get me much more upset than this moment, so go on.  What do you want?"

"Have you seen Harry and Malfoy come by this way?"

"I may have.  Why?"

"Do you know where they went?  We've been trying to get Harry alone to talk to him since forever, but we figure that Malfoy's presence is better than no talk at all," said Fred, looking depressed.  Snape's lip curled in a sneer.

"Why?  A new prank?"

"_No_!" they all shouted, upset.  Neville nodded, looking terrified at the mere attempt at defiance of the Potions Master.

"No, we just want to tell Harry that we didn't mean it and that we are really sorry," said George.  "We shouldn't have let the others do it."

"And … and I-I wanted … wanted to thank … D-Draco and H-Harry for saving me today …" stuttered Neville, focusing on the floor in an attempt to evade Snape's glare.  The man's foot tapped impatiently.

"If I find that you have done a single thing more to that brat, I think I can find suitable detentions for the lot of you," he snapped.  "Though that might be added incentive for you lot, as Potter would be getting yet another detention."  Hermione gasped at the unfairness.

"But you can't punish Harry!  If someone did something, it's not his fault!"

"He's the cause," snarled the man.  "If that bratty little celebrity didn't flaunt all his talents, he'd not be getting into all these scrapes that teachers must continually rescue his sorry little hide from!"

"He didn't ask for it!" yelled George, defending the boy.  "Harry shouldn't be punished you slimy git!"

"Detention Mr. Weasley," said Snape silkily, "And point taken.  Harry will not – and never would have been – punished for your transgressions.  Rather, you would have quietly disappeared, and I would have a new collection of Potions ingredients."  He smiled at their shock, and continued, his voice soft, deadly.  "And should you do one more thing to him, or tell of my attitude towards our figurehead, you will find yourselves in that condition anyway.  _Is that clear?"_  Without waiting for an answer from the stunned children, he swept to the door of his office.  "I will arrange a meeting for you with him, should you like.  Eight o'clock tomorrow night.  You had better be here."  And with that, Professor Severus Snape, most evil teacher at Hogwarts, stalked out the door.

"Did that just happen?" asked Fred, blinking.  The others could do nothing but shrug.

``````````````````````````````

"Come on, Harry," ordered Draco.  "Stop being a baby.  I told you – you're not going anywhere without me."  Harry reluctantly slid between the covers that Draco held open for him.

"But," he objected, "You can't come with me to class!"  Draco yawned and put his arms around the other eleven-year-old sleepily.  Harry jumped at the contact.

"Of course I can.  You're mine," he mumbled.  "I've already written Father about it.  He'll take care of everything, because if he doesn't, I'll disinherit myself.  He knows that …"  His breathing evened out, and he was soon lost to sleep.  Harry lay quietly in the other boy's loose, warm embrace, wondering what he could have possibly done to deserve someone as nice as Draco.  True, the blonde was a little eccentric, what with his belief that it wasn't Harry's fault, but … it was so … nice … not to be punished … for him to think he shouldn't be punished …

Lost in pleasant thoughts, Harry unconsciously snuggled closer to his warm friend, lost in the most pleasant dreams he had had in years …

```````````````````````````````

Stalking down the hallway, Snape was supremely glad that his odd night was finally over … before he went sprawling as a giant dog suddenly appeared in his path.

Rising from the tangle of limbs created when he had fallen, Snape glared at the Grim-like beast.  The dog grinned sheepishly.

"Bl – Sirius, what the bloody hell are you doing here?  I thought you were with the Headmaster this afternoon!"  The dog seized the cranky man's robe sleeve and tugged him down the hallway to a blank wall.  Pressing a paw in the corner of the wall, Sirius the dog led him through the magical doorway and transformed once inside.  He grinned at the scowling Snape.

"How do you like my rooms?" he asked with an expansive wave of his hands.  Severus took a look.

The rooms were nicely decorated in a mixture of crimson and mahogany brown coloring, with a couch in the parlor and a cozy atmosphere that was only enhanced by the cheerily crackling fire.  Two doors at the back of the room led to the bedroom and bathroom respectively, both done in the same color scheme.  Sirius looked very proud of his quarters.

"Very … elegant," Snape conceded sourly.  His own rooms were just as nice if not more so (he had a personal potions laboratory and a dining room as well) but for a _criminal_ to get … Well.  "Is there any other reason for me to be here?"  Sirius nodded, and motioned for Severus to take a seat on the couch.  He did so, and Black joined him.

"I was wondering where Harry was.  I can't find him."  The Potions Master smirked at the Animagus' frustration.

"He's with Draco.  Somewhere."  Black scowled at him.

"Yes, but where??  What if he gets ambushed again?  The kid won't defend himself, and Malfoy is only a first year - "

"And he is a _Malfoy_," Snape stressed.  Sirius gave him a blank look which Severus returned as an exasperated glare.  "The Malfoy family has a long-standing tradition of educating its heirs to be fully knowledgeable in both the Dark Arts and how to defend themselves."  Understanding dawned on Sirius' face.  "Not to mention that Malfoys in general are extremely possessive.  He thinks Harry is _his_.  He won't let anything happen to something that is his.  Personally, I think there's some Veela blood in the family line, but that's just my opinion."  Sirius grinned.

"Well, after Draco gets through with him, I doubt Harry will ever think of himself as anything other than wanted."  He gave Snape a smirk of his own as the other man expressed surprise at his reaction.  "Harry's grown attached to Draco, no matter how he tries to pretend he isn't.  So long as Malfoy is possessive, Harry will know that there is no way he'll be completely abandoned ever again."  He winked at Snape.  "Besides, I think they make a cute couple, so long as they don't _do_ anything for several more years…"

Snape gave up on a cure to the weirdness.

```````````````````````````````

Harry bolted upright in bed, and stared at Draco, who was still sleeping peacefully.

"Waitaminute!  Did he say I was _his_?" yelped Harry.  A pale hand reached up lazily from the bed and pulled Harry back down, cuddling him against Draco's chest as the blonde grinned sleepily.

"Yes," he purred softly.  "You are mine.  Stop whining and go to bed.  It's really very late, you know."

Slowly, Harry relaxed, thought a bit, and fell back to sleep with a smile on his face, Draco happily hugging him close.

*

A/N:  You know, I really liked this chapter…Eight pages too!  (though I must admit that the font had something to do with it…)  Tons of fun to write.  I had actually planned to have no hints of slash and to kill off Harry at the end of the book, but this thing just typed itself (/I/ had nothing to do with it) so I figure that I'll have to revise the end now … *grins* I hope you guys enjoyed!  And again, sorry for not updating.  I'm working on updating my other stuff, but please don't expect much.  I swear that I'll have another update as soon as I can convince myself to abandon reading for writing this.  (Or abandoning new plots in favor of writing this – my worst hang-up)

Love you all, and thanks for the reviews!

--tati1


	15. Percy

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites. 

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N:  I'm truly sorry.  This would have been updated sooner, but Fanfiction cut off my updating privileges for a week because I had a chapter in my fic Childhood Was For Fantasies that was an Author's Note to explain the story.  So if your Author Alerts get a sudden influx of Yugioh, that's why.  I have to rearrange everything.  *scowls*  I mean, it's not like that A/N was a waste of time, either!  It explained the plot to those who didn't get it, like that one chapter in Fallen For a Veela that I now have to go repair so /it's/ not taken down.

You know, ff.net really sucks sometimes.

Apart from that, it was my own laziness that kept me away (and writer's block).  I've decided to at least try to be a responsible teenager and loose this chapter on you.  I hope you enjoy it.  Read and Review!

--tati1

Chapter 15 – Percy 

**_Last time:_**

_Harry bolted upright in bed, and stared at Draco, who was still sleeping peacefully._

_"Waitaminute!  Did he say I was his?" yelped Harry.  A pale hand reached up lazily from the bed and pulled Harry back down, cuddling him against Draco's chest as the blonde grinned sleepily._

_"Yes," he purred softly.  "You are mine.  Stop whining and go to bed.  It's really very late, you know."_

_Slowly, Harry relaxed, thought about it, and fell back to sleep with a smile on his face, Draco happily hugging him close._

*

"Potter!"  Harry turned slightly to see Oliver Wood bearing down on him.  He blinked.

"Yes?"

"Why weren't you at Quidditch practice??" Wood howled.  Harry blinked again.

"We had practice?"

"Of course we had practice!  What do you think the bulletin board is for?  Decoration?!"  He noticed Draco, who looked on the verge of hexing him. "Sod off, Malfoy."

"I wasn't in the common room," said Harry simply.  "I don't sleep in the common room, and I don't go to the common room.  I haven't been to Gryffindor Tower in a while."

"Why the hell not?" asked Wood, bewildered, but not wishing to be dissuaded from his ire.

"Because you arseholes made it too dangerous for him!" snarled Draco.  "Everyone kept beating him up, so it was decided he should set up residence in the Hospital Wing.  He's sleeping in my dorm now though; you won't get at him there."  He sounded smug.  Harry looked embarrassed.

"What?" snapped Wood.  "You're sleeping in the Slytherin dorms?"  Harry shrugged.

"_You_ say no to Draco.  I prefer to keep my life."  Wood actually smiled.

"Alright then.  Practice is every Thursday, seven o'clock.  You better show, Potter.  Talent you may have, but it will all come to nothing if you don't perfect it."  Harry nodded.

"Erm, am I going to be using one of the school brooms?" he asked.  "Just checking," he added hastily as Wood looked at him darkly.

"Of course you're not using a school broom!  Those things are ancient history!"  His tone spoke of nothing short of complete disgust.  "We'll have to get you a good one.  Do you have enough money to get a newer model?"  Harry shrugged.

"He does," said Draco, calmer now that Wood didn't seem to be threatening Harry.  "The Potter's have as much as my family does; he'll never be short of funds.  My father told me," he added, seeing Harry's questioning stare.  Wood grinned evilly.

"Good.  Then I expect him to buy nothing less than the Nimbus Two Thousand."

"After all, it's not your money," muttered Draco dryly.  Wood nodded.

"Precisely!"

*

Harry looked at Draco as the blonde followed him to Transfiguration.

"You know, you really aren't allowed to go to classes with me - "  Draco sniffed haughtily.

"Should they try to stop me, my father will have their heads.  It should be permissible.  After all, I'm going to class with my friend, who needs help in class, and I'll learn the material I need for first year with your assistance.  I won't get in the way."

"Mr. Malfoy," snapped McGonagall, seeing Harry's friend still by his side.  "You do not have this class right now."  Draco sneered at her.

"Oh, but I think I do.  You see; I will now be accompanying Harry, Professor.  He can keep me from falling behind in my schoolwork should I need it, and it's not like it will hurt anything."

"Mr. Malfoy, you will go to class.  Should you persist in this foolish behavior, points will be taken."  Draco sat down in a desk, defiant.  "_Mr. Malfoy_."

"Yes?" he arched a cool eyebrow.

"Out of my classroom!"  The noise level was growing as students came into class and spotted the blonde first year.  Several were snickering.

"No," said Draco flatly.

"You will exit this classroom, and there will not be a repeat of this experience.  You will leave now, else there will be a detention coming your way very shortly."

"No."  Harry looked worried.

"Draco - "

"No."

"Detention, Mr. Malfoy, and ten points from Slytherin.  Leave, or I shall make it fifty."

"No."  McGonagall was fuming now, and Harry thought there was something … odd … about that.  The Professor Minerva McGonagall Severus had told him about was always in command.  In fact, Snape held a great deal of respect for her.

So why was she suddenly acting so incompetent?

Glancing at the older teenagers already seated in the room, Harry saw one or two eyes narrowing at the Head of Gryffindor House.  The Slytherins, positioned opposite the Gryffindors, all wore the usual blank or sneering mask, but Harry, accustomed to trying to discern his Uncle's moods, saw the calculation in their eyes.  He nodded to himself thoughtfully.

He would keep an eye on the teacher.

Returning his attention to Draco, Harry mentally shook himself.  How could he let Draco risk things like this?  He'd be on the outs with Slytherin House if he lost McGonagall's promised fifty points, and it would be all Harry's fault.  Just like everything else.

Nervously, Harry tugged on Draco's arm, but the Malfoy heir shot him such a _look_ that he shrank back unconsciously and shut his mouth, trying to remind himself that Draco wouldn't hit him, and that he didn't want Draco to know—

"This is all your doing, isn't it, Potter?" shrieked Minerva suddenly.  Harry shied away violently as the woman lunged for him.  He fell and scrabbled backwards as she regained her balance and drew her wand, aiming it at the terrified first year.  Almost collectively, the class gasped, shocked that the orderly, stern, but just matron would break her own rules and attack an eleven-year-old.  Harry was looking down her wandpoint when two robed legs stepped in front of him, placing the person between Harry and the enraged teacher.

"Mr. Weasley, _what do you think you're doing?"_ snapped McGonagall breathlessly, clutching the wand even more tightly and trying to aim at the right angle to hit Harry.  Draco was already behind Percy Weasley, lifting his small celebrity friend with an ease that he absently noticed as indicating the other boy was far too light.  The fifth year stared his Head of House down.

"I'm protecting that boy; that _Gryffindor_," he snapped; face almost as red as his hair.  "He's one of your own!  Professor McGonagall, get a hold of yourself!  You have responsibilities that must be upheld!  As a Prefect, I am duty-bound to help protect these students, as are you!  Malfoy should not have been breaking the rules, but that's not a reason to attack _Harry_ _Potter_!"  The teacher's eyes narrowed malevolently.

"Out of the way, Weasley.  The brat is mine to punish as I see fit.  I will not be responsible for any injury you may suffer should you keep this ridiculous spiel about 'duty' going."  So saying, she moved to shove Percy out of the way.  The Gryffindor stood firm; his face resolute.

"Professor McGonagall, _leave him alone_."  Harry stared at his unexpected protector with something akin to awe.  He had thought they all hated him …

McGonagall raised her wand imperiously, pointing it at Percy in unadulterated rage.  "STUPE – "

"EXPELLIARMUS!" bellowed a new voice, coming from the doorway.  The same voice muttered a cushioning charm just in time to catch the flying Transfiguration Professor, and the room turned as a whole to see the Headmaster glaring at Minerva.  He advanced a step and students scuttled to the side walls, awed by his dangerous aura.  All but Harry that is, but he was dragged away anyway by Draco, who didn't seem to believe that his newfound friend still possessed legs and the mental faculties to employ them.  He wriggled, anxious to get out of Draco's arms, no matter how comforting the other boy's heat was.  Reluctantly, the blonde let him down, recognizing his silent wish to see what the Headmaster would do with the mad teacher.

Albus stopped a few feet away from the panting Minerva before he spoke, his voice laced with danger.

"What on Earth could possess you to attack a student?" he growled, his voice far changed from the friendly, oblivious attitude he normally displayed.  McGonagall paled dramatically.

"I – I … I'm sorry Albus," she murmured, sitting up and looking about her dazedly, all traces of anger gone.  Harry was immediately suspicious.  "It's just … that Malfoy boy was being so insolent, and Potter and all those sleepless …" she broke down sobbing; the students looked bewildered.

"Nervous breakdown," mumbled Percy understandingly.  Harry looked at him incredulously.  Was he really that gullible?  He didn't believe it for a moment.  And neither, apparently did Dumbledore, for Harry saw his eyes flash at the crying woman before he forcibly subdued his aura and pushed the twinkle forward in his eyes once more.  He looked entirely sympathetic as he bent and helped McGonagall to stand and walk out of the room.  He paused at the door to look back at them.

"Class dismissed for now," he said cheerily, quite as though he did not have a distraught teacher dangling off his shoulder.  "And Mr. Malfoy, so long as you keep up in your classes and turn your work in on time, you may remain with your friend.  Twenty points to Slytherin for your determination."  And he departed; McGonagall's sobs echoing back down the corridor.

Exchanging a glance with Draco, Harry barely got out of the way in time for several of his considerably larger classmates to whiz by, whooping at the newfound freedom Dumbledore had just granted them.  Draco, sneered at them, making his own exit slow and stately, pausing briefly at the classroom door to give Percy Weasley an imperious glance.

"Thank you," he said regally.  Then, "Come along, Harry," and the smaller boy found himself trailing behind the Slytherin on the way to the Library.

Percy stared after them incredulously.  Then he began to smile, and then grin, until it was a full-blown laugh, something he indulged in very rarely.

"Dragon's pet," he snickered, turned, and left the classroom.

````````````````````````````````````````````

_Eight thirty that night …_

"So you just expect me to forgive you?" asked Harry quietly; his large emerald eyes shadowed in the flickering torchlight.  The three offenders shook their heads.

"No," said Hermione, just as quiet.  "But we would like it if you would give us the chance.  We don't like what we did.  It was a very stupid, very bad, very hurtful mistake, and we know it is probably unforgivable.  We just want to be allowed to be there for you; to protect you and maybe help to make you as happy as you deserve to be.  Your start at Hogwarts wasn't exactly what anyone would have wished for."  Draco sneered angrily, stepping forward in front of Harry as though shielding him from the hurts of the world.

"You don't deserve it," he snapped.  "You don't even know who he is; you don't even know how to take care of him.  We're just fine without backstabbing little morons like _you_, Mudblood.  He doesn't need you to attack him again."

"I know," said Fred and George quietly, in unison.  Draco opened his mouth again, but Harry prodded him in the back.  With concerned silver eyes, the taller boy turned to his friend.

"We'll give it a try," said Harry flatly.  Not one to give up so easily, Draco was about to protest.  If he put his foot down, he knew that Harry would never say another word about it; would follow Draco's direction and never be friends with his Betrayers … But Draco saw the loneliness in the jeweled eyes, even as the raven-haired first year tried to stamp it down, and he knew that it would take more than one quarter-Veela to fix it.  And he knew that _he_, he held Harry's life in his hands; Harry's future; Harry's happiness.  Draco scowled.  He hated doing nice things; even if it _was_ for his only friend.  He turned back to Granger, the Weasleys, and Neville, who had remained in the background the entire time.

"Fine," he snapped, with an edge to his voice.  "But the very second one of you tries something - "  He stuttered into horrified silence as Hermione bounced and hugged him, a wide grin on her face.  He became even more upset when Fred and George ruffled his perfectly gelled, god-like hair.  And then Neville came along, and prying himself away from Granger, Draco shot Harry a stunned look and fled out of the Potions classroom.  Harry couldn't help but laugh, and soon the others joined in.

"Poor Dragon," Harry muttered, muffling his giggles in his sleeves.  Fred and George had no such reserves and were rolling on the floor.  Hermione was mimicking Harry in a vain attempt to be polite, and Neville was giggling helplessly, watching the door Malfoy had just fled through.

It took a long time for them to regain their breaths, and they parted for the night, feeling that maybe things wouldn't be quite so bad in the Yet To Come …

*

A/N:  Well, it's done…  It took a few hours, let me tell you, but not half so bad as I thought it would be.  I know the laughter seems a bit unrealistic, but it won't be quite that easy for the others in the future.  They have to EARN Harry's trust, so don't worry that the plot will fall out.

Ebony Orb competition /should/ be starting soon, but I said that about six chapters ago.  *shrugs*  Then again, I might make Harry take the tests in the next chapter… Could someone please remind me to do that when they review?  Otherwise it might slip my mind and we'll never get anywhere fast…

Again, apologies for taking so long.  I'll ask my beta reader to bug me more often.

Love,

--tati1


	16. Tom

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer: sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter. Which really bites. 

WARNING: This story is R for a REASON! It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much/much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing! Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape. If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe. It's written because it's how and what I write. So buzz off. :

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N: I've deleted rants to flamers (except to the one who was new to slash - I figured it was pretty upfront), but I'd like to put out there that BORG is a flamer who's really nasty. If anyone gets him/her/it please notify me. I want to take it up with because what he/she/it does is total harassment. Also, I have stopped taking anonymous reviews, since flamers never leave their e-mail or author addy. I apologize if I inconvenience anyone, but I'm tired of hearing from them. Oh, and there's another one - Quill - and the recent Dusty, all who have been deleted. (Note to Dusty: You're a hypocrite. You can't criticize me for cussing when you did it too. I am glad, however, that you like the fic, since I'm not all that thrilled with most of it. )

If I get another flame, I WILL report it to After I burn it. Several times. I like Snape.

Chapter 16 – Tom 

_**Last time:**_

"_Poor Dragon," Harry muttered, muffling his giggles in his sleeves. Fred and George had no such reserves and were rolling on the floor. Hermione was mimicking Harry in a vain attempt to be polite, and Neville was giggling helplessly, watching the door Malfoy had just fled through._

_It took a long time for them to regain their breaths, and they parted for the night, feeling that maybe things wouldn't be quite so bad in the Yet To Come …_

It was a Saturday, so Harry didn't expect anyone to be up and about, but he did take precautions on the off-chance that some Slytherin bully found him away from his own dorms. That was why, as he slid through the shadowy corridor into the Slytherin Commons, Harry saw the snake before it saw him.

It was a huge specimen, the largest Harry had ever seen. At least fifty feet long and five feet wide, the monstrous beast shone brilliantly in the torchlight as it swayed hypnotically before the fireplace, its sinuous head turned away from the small boy's startled gaze. Beside it, thrown into sharp relief by the flickering fire, stood an older youth, slightly messy black hair gleaming and beneath it, emerald eyes smiling in triumph as the boy who looked strangely like Harry possessively clutched a little black book and absently caressed his snake's beautiful emerald body with clear affection.

Terrified, Harry stepped further into the shadows, eager to make his escape, but that seemed to be the wrong move as the older boy's head snapped around and frowned in his direction.

"Come out," he ordered softly, his voice silky and deceptively friendly. Harry stayed where he was. He knew what that snake was. A Basilisk. Though how it got into _Hogwarts_ of all places…

The teen's emerald eyes, so like Harry's own, narrowed with irritation. "I said _come out_." Harry shuddered at the power placed behind the simple order, instinctively recognizing it as dark arts. Unwilling, he crept forward, fighting the spell to no effect until he was finally halted a few feet from the boy, trembling as his body continued to act without his mind ordering it to. Idly, he wondered what curse had been placed upon him – it wasn't the Imperius; that would have made him dreamy. This was … being an observing puppet, with no control over his own actions, but knowing what he was doing all the same. This actually seemed worse than the Imperius … He wondered why it wasn't restricted as well.

Seeing Harry, the stranger looked startled before he managed to smooth his features into an amused smile.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he murmured, circling the smaller boy with interest. "Do you know?" he asked abruptly, lifting Harry's chin with one long-fingered hand. Harry felt enough control being returned to him that he could speak, and he gave the boy a wary, curious glance.

"Know what?" he queried. The teenager laughed softly, and released his chin.

"Nothing," he said airily. He regarded the younger boy thoughtfully for a moment.

"My name is Tom," he finally said, and then nodded at the Basilisk. "This is Myrrhlameth, but you may call her Myrrh." His eyes narrowed in sudden doubt. "Speak to her." Harry's head obediently turned, despite his panicked attempts at disobeying, and he spoke.

"Um, hello Myrrh," he whispered, hoping desperately that she didn't turn to look at him. He wouldn't die of course—he was wearing his glasses—but being Petrified honestly didn't sound all that nice …

"Do not hurt him," said Tom to Myrrh sternly. The great snake bobbed its head into a nod and slithered around to look at Harry. Had the Gryffindor not been paralyzed by Tom's spell, he would have gasped. Slitted yellow eyes glared at him, but not cruelly, and … well, he _wasn't dead_. Bit of a shocker, that. Harry blinked. Myrrh blinked. Harry stared.

Tom, standing at Harry's shoulder, smirked in a manner that would have terribly frightened his look-alike had Harry seen it, before leaning down to murmur in Harry's ear, "Not many know that Basilisks can deactivate that glare of death, but then, no one can actually ask the Basilisk unless they are Parslemouths such as we are." He suddenly changed topics. "If I release you, will you run?"

Harry couldn't risk Tom letting Myrrh loose on the Slytherin House. He shook his head, and sighed in happy relief as control of his body was returned to him.

"Thank you," he murmured softly. Tom smiled at him. "M-may I ask a question?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you ask if I would scream? That would bring people running faster." Tom shook his head.

"Honestly, aren't you a Slytherin?" He caught sight of the badge on Harry's robes and scowled. "Never mind. The Slytherin Commons are separated from the dorms by a Silencing Charm, so that if the House is in revelry down here, the ones trying to sleep can do so without the excess noise."

"Oh," said Harry nervously. He brushed a shaking hand across his cheek and accidentally moved his sweaty bangs a little to the left. He realized his mistake when Tom jumped.

"Who are you?" he snapped. Harry shrank back a bit.

"Harry Potter." Emerald eyes widened, and the taller boy stared at him in shock. Harry blinked nervously and tried to move a little further away as Tom suddenly smiled and reached for him.

Pale hands seized Harry's head, touching the little black book to Harry's temple as Tom hurriedly muttered a few lines of Latin, though Harry didn't know what he said. It suddenly didn't matter to him as Tom's magic swirled into a tangible form and crashed down on his tiny frame.

Harry screamed, twisting in agony as pain lanced through his scar in red-hot waves. Dimly, he saw Tom's green eyes glowing red, and his smile widening at the First Year's cries, which were growing louder. The Basilisk had slithered away, whispering to herself about roosters crowing soon, but Harry didn't hear. He heard only his own screams and Tom's voice rising in his steady chant of Latin, until finally his shrieks cut off, and Harry cried silently, unable to voice his agony as Tom held the arching black-haired child with unnatural strength, still smiling.

And then, as abruptly as it had started, the pain stopped, and Harry collapsed bonelessly to the floor as Tom stood over him. He didn't even have the energy to stiffen as Tom bent down kindly and ruffled his hair. Then the teen buried his fingers in the unruly locks and jerked the eleven-year-old's head back, so that Harry's pained emerald eyes met his own, which were swirling alternately with crimson and green, a dizzying effect.

Harry whimpered.

"You won't tell anyone what I just did to you; got it, brat?" Tom hissed. Harry noticed distractedly that the sixteen-or-so-year-old was speaking in Parsletongue, and he nodded, shivering in the aftereffects of whatever Tom had done to him. The grip in his hair released, and Tom watched dispassionately as Harry's skull thudded nastily against the floor and green eyes worked furiously to dispel the tears he'd been shedding since Tom had touched him. Nudging the younger boy thoughtfully with his foot, Tom grinned amusedly as his victim tensed.

"You will need an excuse for being in such bad condition," he mused. "After all, you'll faint soon, and _someone_ has to find you…" He glanced at the fireplace and snapped his fingers. "Of course! You would obviously scream if you were alight … but how to get rid of the blood?" At his words, Harry finally realized what the trickling sensation from his scar was from, and he shivered. "Where's your wand?" asked Tom. "Thank you," he added, as he plucked the magical stick from Harry's offering hand. Tom smirked nastily. "I love that puppet spell," he muttered, and Harry was relieved when he was soon released from said spell as Tom stared down at him thoughtfully.

"Do you want to know what I did to you? That spell that laid you out was a binding spell, used in such a way that I, used to the form of a spirit, may employ either your body or my own, so that none will know of my presence until it is too late. When I can trust you, Harry, I will give you your body back." He sighed dramatically, but his eyes seemed far too satisfied. "Until then, I need an excuse for your not being up to anything today. My spell was draining on me, the caster, but for you it will be so much worse. Especially considering that I'll have to damage you in order to gain bed rest. Hold still, Harry." He raised the wand, and Harry held still, bound into obedience by that same dark magic spell once more.

"_Incendio_!"

Harry's world dissolved into fiery blackness.

Draco woke to screaming.

Startled, he jumped out of bed and dashed into the hallway, wand at the ready. All the other Slytherins had burst out as well, looking in various states of exhaustion, alertness, and confused fear. Now that he was up, Draco could hear the words in those screams:

"_Get Madame Pomfrey! Get Madame Pomfrey! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my—"_ The shrieking abruptly cut off as a slap resounded in the Slytherin dungeons.

"Adelaide, get a hold of yourself!" snarled Marcus Flint, the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team. Adelaide, a Second Year well-known for her early rising and calm disposition, punched him in the nose. There was an audible crunch and Flint staggered, whimpering, before she started sobbing again.

"Didn't you hear me?" she wailed. "Get Madame Ponfrey! He's _dead_!" That caught peoples' attention.

"Who?"

"Where?"

"How?"

"He died?"

"Who died?"

"SHUT UP!" she bellowed. "He's _dead_! Harry Potter is bloody lying _dead_ in our common room! Get Madame Pomfrey!" Draco froze for a split second in horrified shock.

_No,_ he moaned mentally, _no_…

"No!" he exclaimed, and disregarding the students, he barreled through them to finally reach the common room, where he paused fearfully. He didn't see Hary, and was preparing to fall in exhausted relief and dismiss Adelaide's claims when he saw a crumpled figure before the fireplace, robes still smoldering slightly. Rushing over and ignoring the Slytherings pushing in from the dorms, he knelt at Harry's side, crushing the flames with a pillow he'd snatched from one of the couches.

"Harry?" he asked breathlessly, ruthlessly pushing down his tears. "Harry?" There was no response. He whirled on the shocked Slytherin House. "Somebody get Severus! Get Dumbledore! Get Poppy! Well? Why aren't you moving?" he bellowed. "Move! NOW!"

Not many can resist the power of a Malfoy, though nearly all wish to. Even on his knees, a Malfoy will always command the utmost respect from all quarters, and Draco was no exception. He was therefore unsurprised when his commands were followed swiftly, as three students dashed out of the entryway. The rest made room (they had been nearly stepping on Harry) and awaited Draco's pleasure. He ignored them and looked back down at Harry, gently pulling his friend's shoulder so that he could see Harry's face. He choked down a gasp of horror at the blackened face, but sighed in relief as he placed his fingers under Harry's darkened nose. Adelaide had been wrong about one thing—Harry wasn't dead.

And Draco had to make sure he stayed that way.

A/N: Quite a plot twist, ne? I hope none of you are upset with it…

Sorry there was such a delay with this chapter, but I had end-of-the-year tests at school, as well as my first SATs. I was busy studying, and didn't have time for fanfics. My apologies. I may or may not be going on vacation this weekend. If I don't, then I'll update soon. If I do, then expect an update in about two weeks or so. I'll be updating FFAV very soon as well. Thank you to all the wonderful reviews!

--tati1


	17. Counseling

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer: sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter. Which really bites. 

WARNING: This story is R for a REASON! It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much/much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing! Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape. If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe. It's written because it's how and what I write. So buzz off. :

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N: Apologies for not updating as soon as promised. Any of you heard of the S Bot Worm, or something like that? Yes? No? Well, anyway, it was on the net, and I didn't really want to risk my comp freezing up and then dying on me, so until we get the proper patch… Well, I haven't been online. It's not like I asked for this to attack, so please don't hate me. sighs

I would like to apologize ahead of time for the long A/N, but some people have questions that other reviewers may also have as valid concerns/curiosities. I hope this helps clear some stuff up.

Someone mentioned (they did not leave a name or e-mail address) that Hedwig would not naturally bring Harry dead mice in chapter two of this fic. Here's the review:

_From: ()  
_  
_"She seemed pleased with the name and like a cat, faithfully brought him her kills." -- That's highly atypical owl behavior, unless Hedwig is gracing Harry with her lovely regurgitated meal carcasses. _

Okay. Page 88 of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone says: "…Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Petunia didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice." Don't pester me with this, please! I just took what the precious JK wrote and transcribed it into my own words. Essentially, she said exactly the same thing. You have a problem with it; please take it up with her. 

From: e()

that review was rather pitiful...and on the first chapter too? While I do not think that your story is the best written nor the most original, rather slow to the point and shabby on the suspense, you still have the right to post on so long as you follow the rules, which you have (i think) except for the no author's notes clause recently enacted by the administrators...your story does however have a charming idea and a brilliant start...I just wish that you had been able to carry that over to the later chapters...why are you taking so long to finish Harry's 'awkward and every one hates me' stage...it almost seems that you are stuffing too much action into too little time with too little detail of what Harry is going through...I wish that you would develop his caracter more...on another note, to hell with that other reviewer...if you enjoy writing, just do it

grins Yes, I know my work is crappy, but thanks for the support from the evil review. No author's notes clause? I thought that was just on the 'No chapters that are only A/Ns.' Besides, if there really is a 'no A/N clause,' then there's going to be a lot of unhappy authors on I like reading authors notes on other fics. I may not always do so, but it's nice to see that the writers are actually people behind the skill … I hope you're wrong about this…

Thanks for the compliment on the plotline, but frankly, I hate my fic up until about the last few chapters. grins I think that the first chapter is crappy and poorly written, as is the rest of it. 'Awkward and everyone hates me?' Um, I hate to say this, but … Duh. That is what I like to write, frankly. Besides, these things just don't go away that easily. Have you ever been depressed? I have, and it just doesn't end like that snaps fingers; it takes wanting to end the pain, and no matter how great or little a masochist one is, it's not easy. I don't enjoy being depressed, but it was all I could remember and I was comfortable with it. Anything else was change. It was new, different, strange. And what if it didn't work? Then where would I be? In for a world more pain than I would have had otherwise. It was a terrifying prospect, and still is …

Apart from that, yes, I agree with all your negative points about my writing, but that's why I'm here, writing on isn't it? To grow in my (limited) talents as a writer and learn from mistakes in what I write and in the talents or lack thereof that I see in others? At least, that's my philosophy, and I like writing, so thank you for the support and criticism! It was very welcome, despite the fact that I hate being criticized. laughs Hope you keep reading!

**I also received a public, formal apology from Narishma (we had a slight altercation over the fic and reviews and homosexuality and flames) and I'd like to thank him here, publicly, for the apology. While his attitude saddens me, I am grateful that he was mature and responsible enough to take the correct course with it. I hope that this reflects on who you are as a person, 'cuz if it does, you're a really great guy. Thanks for apologizing – it's the first one yet.**

From: terrorofthehighway()

okay, what did you say about that silencing charm in the Slytherin dorm? I didn't really understand it. Can Harry tell Dumbledore? When will he know about Sirius's new rooms? When is his quidditch practice? You're updating too slowly for me to read! (okay, so what if I'm self-centered, Malfoy is, but no one cares ) When is Wormtail gonna be captured? Is he gonna tell anyone about the torture from the Dursleys? What about Mcgonahal? Isn't she under the Imperious? If so, who is it? When will he become friends with the rest of Gryffindor hous or Ron? Please exscue my spelling, i am not really good at it. Who are the others,i didn't really notice them in the Harry Potter series. I know this is an alternate universe, but how did Harry know the names so quickly? What rape? there was none. Or i didn't sees it. I don't think you're that sick, are you? I think Percy was brave. Is Harry ever going to sleep in Gryffindor tower? Is your story going to end with Harry dying? My friend said  
so, but I don't think she reviewed, so you won't know her. Can you update very very very quickly? I know you have to study, but pretty PLEASE!

Good God! faints Enough questions there? Alright, Slytherin dorm…

(1) The silencing charm is placed on the doorways of each passage that goes from the common room to the dormitories. This way, those in the dorms won't be bothered by excess noise from the common room, so if there's a party among the older years, the younger years can go to sleep without being kept up by all the racket. I hope that explains it suitably.

(2) Why would Harry tell Dumbledore? He doesn't like the man – he's far too blind concerning Harry's problems (though admittedly, Harry doesn't think about it that way). I concede though, that Dumbledore will probably find out about it, but I'm not sure. It depends on what my muse wants.

(3) To be honest, I forgot about Sirius' rooms. Maybe he'll be taken to them this chapter, but I haven't written the chapter yet, so… shrugs I'm just answering reviews today. Chapter tomorrow (though it's on this, don't worry. I just take the writing in small bits).

(4) Quidditch practice is on Thursdays, remember? It's in chapter … fifteen, I think. He was attacked by Tom on Saturday, so wait a bit please. I need him to take his entrance exams first.

Sorry about the lack of updates. Yes, I know it's annoying, but I have over fifty fics going in my notebooks (not online/posted) and that and reading takes me away from this sort of thing. Plus school was a big factor. My teachers were starting new chapters on the last week of school! I'm trying to remedy the update shortage.

(5) I don't know about Wormtail. I might have him escape to … oops, not telling. Um, beats me. Leave it to the muse. Right now we've got closer fish to fry.

(6) No. Harry will not tell about his relatives, though his friends might find out on their own, especially if Draco catches Harry in the shower or something, where he can't hide his scars. I know I keep saying this, but … we'll see.

(7) Hehehe… Imperius? Nope. But she is out to get Harry, and Dumbledore knows her secret. However, if he'll reveal it or not is to be seen… Probably. I like keeping all these secrets though, so… chuckles evilly Ahem, pardon.

(8) He won't become friends with the rest of Gryffindor. He's a prodigy; they usually live apart from everything. Look at Hermione's first year before she made friends with Ron and Harry! However, yes, he'll become friends with Ron at a later, unforeseen date. I'm not so clear on when though, so … 'we'll see.'

Ahem, technically speaking, those characters aren't in the books. I just needed characters. Writer's license and all that.

Know what names so quickly? And he doesn't know names so quickly; he was friends with Fred and George, and Hermione implemented his destruction, and he saved Neville, and Draco is his first friend, and Sirius said he loved him. Oh, and Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle beat him up. Why wouldn't he remember those names? I know this stuff normally takes awhile, but events like that tend to stick. If I still need an excuse, I'll pass it off with the fact that he's a genius.

No rape. It's just in the warning that I include in all my fics, in case I decide to implement it. THERE WILL BE NO RAPE IN THIS STORY! Sick? Yes, rape is sick, but it does happen, so why shouldn't I write about it? I've done it before and I'll do it again! So there. sticks tongue out childishly Apologies, but I think I took offense. blinks

(9) Nope, he probably won't sleep in Gryff.

(10) No, I said that a few chapters ago. I was planning to kill him off, and I might have told your friend that (I told someone) but I've decided not to. Several people pleaded, so I conceded!

(11) Studying is over – I said that in the last chapter. And I'm updating, I swear. It's just hard when the right muse doesn't strike. Right now it's got me stuck on a novel-length fic that I'll post when it's complete (so I can update more often). I love that fic … 's very good, far better than this one, so please forgive my distraction. Besides, I'm FREE FROM SCHOOL! It's got me on a high. I swear I'm trying to get down from it, but I'll adjust to summer and then give you an estimate of when I'll update.

Thanks for the review! Too many questions, but I'm thrilled you've thought about it that much, so I won't complain (too much). grins Bye!

Pleasenote that Tom is NOT having sexual relations with/going to rape Harry. NOT AT ALL. TOM IS COMPLETELY STRAIGHT.

Thank you all for your support and reviews. I hope the next chapter clears up any questions you may have.

Chapter 17 – Counseling 

_**Last time:**_

_And Draco had to make sure he stayed that way._

As Harry slowly regained consciousness, the first thing he noticed was the pain. The pain throbbed over his entire body, and his skin tingled horribly. He felt dizzy and more than a little nauseous, but he remembered what had happened.

He wished he didn't.

_Up so soon?_ purred a voice. _My, my, you _are _strong!_ It sounded happy, but Harry flinched as he recognized it, recalling what that voice had said before he passed out … _Oh yes, but it _was _necessary Harry, and its not like I killed you. At least now, you'll never be bullied again. That's what they think this is, you know, _Tom added. _And you are not to tell them differently._

_Wh-why …_ stuttered Harry mentally, his thoughts shrinking in fear. Tom answered anyway.

_Being in your head is convenient, heir, _he sniffed. _With a little work, you will be a valuable addition to my forces, but we'll discuss that later. And stop cringing. If you do that every time I speak to you, someone will realize I'm here._

… _Why _are _you here?_ asked Harry curiously.

_Ah,_ said Tom, pleased. _Now that _is _a story. The book that I held—I was bound to it. Around fifty years ago I opened the Chamber of Secrets as Salazar Slytherin's heir and released Myrrh on the Muggleborns of the school. Eventually she killed one—whiny girl named Myrtle—and I was forced to seal the Chamber once again. But Salazar's great work could not be wasted!_ he shouted. _Especially not as it was still unfulfilled… so I sealed a memory of my sixteen-year-old self, locking it away until the time was again ripe and I could be released to rid the world of Mudbloods permanently. Someone you are not familiar with, Gregory Parsham, one of my disciples, was given the diary by Lucius Malfoy. He promised to give me flesh once again … and so, he wrote in my diary, and I wrote back. As he penned his words, I fed upon them and began to give a little back … we traded pieces of our souls …_ he paused as though to savor the memory. _Finally, I became strong from his tiny spirit and last night I killed him, and used the remainder of his soul to bring myself back. He was a greedy fool anyway,_ he added judiciously. Harry felt ill. _I traveled to Hogwarts,_ Tom continued, _but without the use of a wand … I planned to steal one by setting Myrrh on a student or professor and taking that wand afterwards for my own use—at least, until I found my real soul. He isn't dead yet; I can feel him. Obtaining you, Harry Potter, was a bonus. In more ways than one, _he added softly. _But I have released myself from that cursed diary, and now I have you, until I am strong enough to either kill Dumbledore or find my other soul._

_And then you'll kill me,_ said Harry thoughtfully. Tom laughed. It rang unpleasantly in Harry's head.

_Kill you! Hardly. I have plans for you …_ That sounded ominous, but there was nothing Harry could fathom to do about it at the moment, so he opened his eyes, blinking into a fuzzy, familiar world.

_Hospital Wing,_ he thought, reaching to the bedside table for his glasses.

_Yes, _Tom agreed. Harry shifted nervously. Having someone else residing in his skull was uncomfortable, to say the least, and it wasn't as though Tom had been the nicest houseguest so far. Harry just hoped the other would leave soon … _Oh, Harry, I wouldn't get my hopes up about that, _mocked Tom, a gleeful edge to his voice that reminded Harry frighteningly of the teen's reaction to his screams, _I intend to keep you with me for a long time. A … very long time. _He sounded dreamy. _Oh, to have found you … what remarkable luck; the Fates must have lent a hand in this, to be sure._

_You read Greek and Roman mythology?_ asked Harry, trying to dispel Tom's unnerving mood. It didn't really work.

_Yes, _he said simply, _but Harry, I do believe you have forgotten your place. Should I wish to do something, you have no right to keep me from it, and if I wish to think … I strongly suggest that you refrain from speaking, unless it assists my thoughts, which will never happen as I am greater than you, so you will never speak when I am pleased. You do not wish to see me displeased, do you? _Harry got the distinct impression that the dark-haired youth was smiling, but not kindly. _Let me show you what might happen if I were …_

The lightening-scarred child felt a nasty twist deep within his mind, and braced himself, barely in time to keep himself from screaming as the pain coursed through him. He slapped his hand over his mouth to muffle his whimpers as the invisible lance of agony pierced through him, finally settling on his left arm to throb in agonizing waves. His muscles pulsed, cramping as it grew in intensity, and when it finally grew to a blinding red shot with yellow streaks, Tom stopped, and Harry collapsed back onto the bed, only now realizing that he had arched off it in his punishment. The hand that he had clamped over his mouth was reluctant to be removed, and Harry dazedly noted that it was bleeding freely, with distinct markings where his teeth had punctured the skin in his blindness. He tried to burrow into his bed as he felt a soothing touch on his mind from a very satisfied Tom.

_There, child, that went well, didn't it? _The feeling of pleasure emanating from the other boy grew as Harry whimpered again when his left arm shifted. _Ah yes, that will hurt awhile. After all, the lesson cannot stick if you do not have a constant reminder of it, right Harry? Hush, I'm not angry … _Actually, he sounded rather far from that emotion, if Harry were any judge. _But remember this lesson: When you hold the power, you must make sure to keep it. Punish anyone and everyone who tries to thwart your power through incompetence, stupidity, jealousy, or ambition. And above all, always remember to revere those more powerful than you. Your entire purpose in life is to serve your master. In time, heir, you will learn that that master is me, and you will learn why. Until then, I fear that I cannot yet trust you with quite that much information. Now, pet, go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up. _Harry felt Tom touch yet another part of his mind, but this time it did not hurt, but sent him deep into slumber, Tom's dark laughter ringing through his mind.

"Are you sure that you're fine?" asked Hermione as Draco opened his mouth, probably to ask the same thing. Harry restrained a frustrated sigh.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied, yet again.

"But don't your burns hurt?" she queried anxiously; glancing at his bandaged hands and partly bandaged face. His hair looked even wilder than usual as part of it had been fried in the fire, and he looked paler than before, though none of the others could even guess close to the reason why.

Tom.

Harry desperately tuned out the smoldering anger emanating from the older boy, and smiled reassuringly at his Mudblood friend—Muggleborn, he muttered, scowling mentally at Tom, who had yet again placed the word in his thoughts. He didn't know how the other did that, but it was terrifying that he could take control so easily, and Tom also kept trying to combine their emotions. So far though, Harry had resisted the brainwashing with more or less success.

"Yes, a little, but not enough to keep me out of classes," he told her. She and Draco still looked unconvinced, but the twins grinned at him.

"The mothers onto you, Potter?" Fred joked. He dodged Draco's fist and shook his head reprovingly. "Violent parents you got there, Harry."

"But all the same," added George, "we'll have to agree with them on this one. What were you thinking, going out alone?"

"I just wanted a shower," Harry mumbled, and got a reproof from Tom for his trouble.

_Don't mumble; it's a sign of weakness, and you are _not _going to be weak, no matter how you've lived. _Harry winced as Tom mentally jabbed him in the ribs. That _hurt_.

"And you nearly died in getting it!" snapped Draco, glaring at him. "Do you have any idea what you've put me through? I thought you were dead!"

"I'm sorry," Harry soothed, contrite. "I didn't mean to worry you, and I _had_ taken precautions … I'm sorry, Draco." The Malfoy didn't look happy about it, but he did look slightly satisfied.

"Just make sure this never happens again," he said sternly. Harry nodded, and they continued walking to the Great Hall.

"It wouldn't anyway," Harry added, as they left Hermione, Fred and George, and sat at the end of Slytherin table. "Now that Sirius," he lowered his voice, "is sharing his rooms with us, sleeping shouldn't be a problem." Draco nodded reluctantly. Sirius scared him a bit—the man's dog form was _huge_, and Draco had been raised on tales of the evil, death-bearing Grims. Even Harry had to admit that his godfather did look like one, but the myth didn't unnerve him in the same manner it did his friend.

Still, he was grateful for the safety measures, and he definitely wouldn't change it—unless he could move into Severus' rooms—so Draco didn't say anything further on the subject and settled for watching Harry eat, carefully monitoring the smaller boy's every mouthful.

Harry had escaped Madame Pomfrey's fussy care within a day, and had rested enough that even she deemed him ready for classes. It was Monday again, and the Entrance Exams for the school competition were fast approaching. The eleven-year-old studied at every spare moment, despite Draco's worries about overtaxing himself, but the blonde did get his way in the late afternoon.

"Harry, you're supposed to meet with Professor Snape today," the boy reprimanded, shoving open Harry's bed curtains to reveal his friend bent over a book. Harry looked up at him, startled.

"But—" he protested. Draco grabbed him by the left arm and hauled him up … and then released him in surprise when Harry cried out in pain.

"Are you alright?" gasped Draco. Harry nodded frantically.

"Yes—it's just one of my burns…" But Malfoy had already hauled up Harry's robe sleeve, and the smaller boy's arm was, well, still burned, but it was also black and blue, mottled with unhealthy streaks of purple and yellow, and shot throughout with red. Harry hadn't been using it since his punishment from Tom, and it hurt to even move it. Unfortunately, Draco realized that as well.

"What happened?" he gasped. Harry miserably looked down at the covers.

"I … I can't tell you. It wouldn't be safe."

"My arse it wouldn't be safe!" the other barked. "It's not safe for you right now! Whoever hurt you, we need to take care of it, Harry!" Tom smirked in the back of Harry's head.

_Just you try, little boy, _he sneered. _I'll take much pleasure in ripping your skin until you beg for _my _mercy—_

"No!" Harry yelled, clutching his head and shaking it from side to side. "No, Tom—! You won't touch him!" His magic began to surge.

_Fine,_ snapped Tom, sounding surprised and … shaken? _Fine, you can have your precious little Veela, but keep him away from our secret. We can't have anyone knowing about this, little … Potter._

"Harry? Harry?" Dimly, the black-haired boy looked up at Draco's frightened face. "Harry, are you alright?" He shook his head to dispel the clouds and then smiled up at his friend.

"Yeah, 'm fine," he assured, and pulled his sleeve back down as he clambered off the bed. "We're supposed to meet with Severus?" he queried. Draco nodded, still watching him closely. "I'm fine, Draco," Harry sighed, "I swear that I'm fine."

Looking up at a quiet rap on his office door, Severus saw Harry timidly standing in the doorway, green eyes bright in the dim lighting. He straightened in his chair and motioned for Harry to enter.

"Harry, I'm glad you came," he said quietly, weaving a Silencing Charm about the room so they would not be overheard. "Have a seat on the couch." His small charge did as he was told, and Severus looked him over critically.

Harry was tiny, and obviously still underweight, though he didn't look half as bad as the Potions Master had expected—he wasn't gaunt, for one thing. The serious face framed by slightly singed, unruly black hair seemed too much like a mask for comfort, and the emerald eyes were weary. His robes were a tad overlarge—obviously with the hope that the small boy would grow into them—and his sneakers were frayed, but apart from that it was difficult to tell that the child had been injured at all …

Until you saw the bandages poking out from under the robe sleeves.

It had been terribly frightening for Severus to find his young friend in such a horrible condition, and he'd been enraged at whomever had harmed the boy in such a manner. Unfortunately, the culprit had not yet been caught, and Harry claimed to have not seen his attacker. Severus still didn't believe him, but there it was.

"Harry," he said finally, giving the boy one more glance-over, "Could you tell me a little bit about why you seem to feel like you deserve to be hurt?" It was blunt, but to the point. He had done the same for his last depressed Slytherin, and Merlin, there seemed to be a lot of them. Distantly, he wondered what the other children did, if they were depressed and not in Severus' House. It was a redundant thought.

The eleven-year-old visibly braced himself, and he snuggled a little further into the soft leather of the couch.

"When bad things happen, it's always my fault," he whispered. Unconsciously, he began dry-washing his hands. "If everything's my fault, then shouldn't I be punished for it? Uncle Vernon said that living was probably the worst thing I've done, but I don't particularly want to _stop_—"

"Your Muggle uncle tells you that you should be dead?" asked Snape evenly. Harry nodded.

"I'm a burden; I should have just died with my parents instead of foisting myself off on my relatives. They—they give me food and shelter and clothes. I should be grateful for them teaching me how to behave, and—"

"Harry, do your relatives abuse you?"

"No!" said the child vehemently. "They're good people! They are! I'm the bad one—I'm always doing bad things. Stupid and evil and useless," he added angrily. Severus leaned forward gently.

"Harry … good people don't tell _anyone_ that they should be dead. Your being dead would be a very bad thing—I'd miss you, for one, as would Draco and Black, and all your friends. From what you're telling me, your relatives haven't been nice to you at all—"

"You're wrong!" snapped Harry. "They showed me how to be useful, so I'm not just some stupid leech—without them I'd be some pathetic, arrogant weakling with no respect for anyone else, and—" He suddenly stopped, looking horrified. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to shout at you." He seemed utterly miserable.

"That is the point of these sessions, Harry," Severus sighed. "So that you can tell me what is bothering you, and that maybe the two of us can come up with solutions to keep these things from bothering you, or to fix them.

"I don't think that you're a horrible person at all, Harry," he continued. "In all the years I've known you, I've been forced to admire your intelligence, your tenacity, your bravery and your strength. You are, quite possibly, the most amenable person I have ever met—and you have a tendency to let others walk all over you because you seem to think that they're all better than you. Listen to me Harry—they're not. You're one of the best people I know, and it's hard to see you doing this to yourself, to believe such utter trash about yourself when in reality you're more wonderful than anyone will ever know, or indeed even recognize." Harry tried to hide it, but Snape saw his skepticism. "I know you don't believe me, but it's true, and I'll say it until you realize it yourself.

"If someone told you that Draco was a horrible person, just because they disliked him, and then said that, because Draco is a horrible person, he has to be punished, would you agree?" Harry shook his head. "So how can you be a horrible person just because your uncle says you are? How can he be the judge of you when he dislikes you? Anyone will badmouth someone they dislike; you have merely had the unfortunate experience of being badmouthed to your face by your guardian. It is no fault of your own—Albus should have checked in on you over the years. _I_ should have checked in on you over the years." His voice was heavy with regret.

"I will personally make sure that you are not returned to the Dursleys."

"No!" protested Harry. "Why?"

"What they have done to you, in a court of law, constitutes as abuse—"

"But they didn't abuse me! They're good people!"

"Emotional abuse can be even worse than physical, in the scheme of things," said Severus sternly, "and telling a child that they should be _dead_ is most certainly unacceptable. Harry, I apologize if I'm hurting you, but we cannot risk you being hurt in such a shameful way by those we have entrusted to guard you. As your counselor, I will not reveal anything that goes on in our discussions unless I have reason to believe that you will cause harm to others or yourself, or are being harmed by others. This behavior displayed by your uncle is most assuredly harmful to you, and as your counselor and your friend, I will not stand by to see that hurt continue." Harry still looked rebellious, but didn't say anything.

"Are we done?" he asked, after a few minutes of silence. Snape sighed.

"Yes, for now. However, whenever you think you need to be 'punished' over the course of the next week, I want you to write it down on this paper…" Here he paused to reach for a parchment, which he handed to Harry. It was sectioned neatly, and instructions were written across the top. "You will fill in each section, stating what had just happened to make you feel like a bad person, what you felt like doing, what you thought I would want you to do, and how you felt after you reacted, whether that reaction was submitting to a punishment, fighting back, or just writing about it. Next Monday we will go over your sheet, and discuss what makes you feel so horrible." He smiled gently as Harry stood to take his leave. "I will see you in class tomorrow, Harry. And remember, anytime you need to talk, my office is always open."

As the door shut over Harry's soft, "Good night, Professor," Severus sighed again.

"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered, and turned back to his papers.

A/N: Was that good? It was about seven pages … flutters worriedly Oh, I hope it's enough. The counseling scene is quite accurate, so I don't want to see any flames about it. I was planning to include a bit of what Harry thought after the session, but, well, it's bedtime, and I'd probably screw it up in the morning. I'll start the next chapter soon, and work on both getting Harry through the exams and exorcising Tom, 'kay? I hope you enjoyed the chapter; it's one of the most realistic yet, I think (despite the whole Tom-is-in-Harry's-head thing … Um, yeah …), and it took quite awhile to decide on a counselor's method of approach (I finally went with what mine did).

Sorry again about not being online for the past … two? weeks, but I swear, _I don't control the Internet Worms! _It's not my fault, and I would be online if I could … sighs heavily You have no idea how full my inbox is going to be … shudders


	18. The Champion

Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb 

By tati1

Disclaimer: sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter. Which really bites. 

WARNING: This story is R for a REASON! It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing! Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape. If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe. It's written because it's how and what I write. So buzz off.

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

A/N: I actually have an excuse this time! I was away on vacation for the last two weeks, with no computer access whatsoever, so I couldn't update. I nearly went nuts. _sighs_ I apologize for how long the A/N went last time, but I did make sure that the chapter was at least as long as the review responses. _Someone_ complained that the chapter was only – at most – half as long as the review responses. I am telling you right now that I would _never_ do that. The responses were seven pages – including the title and warnings and such – and the chapter was seven pages. I do NOT cheat my reviewers. I like you guys. 

Also, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Kel of Mayhem. Your review was wonderfully well-written and thoughtful, and I thank you. It really made my day.

And, since apparently review responses are now banned, would Black-Rose1212 please e-mail me with her last review? I'd love to answer your questions, but it'll take awhile.

Ack! I know I already loaded this, but someone mentioned that I didn't make the boggart turn into anything funny! _is horrified_ I was so _sure_ I had included that, too…

**Chapter 18 – The Champion**

**_Last time:_**

****

_As the door shut over Harry's soft, "Good night, Professor," Severus sighed again._

_"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered, and turned back to his papers._

* * *

__

Harry awoke with dread seated in his stomach on Tuesday morning, for this was the day that Transfiguration classes resumed. He did not want to see McGonagall's reaction to being hauled off by Dumbledore last week, and since Draco was still following him about … well, he just hoped that didn't make it worse.

But when he arrived in the classroom, the Malfoy preceding him arrogantly, he found that his fears were entirely unfounded. Professor McGonagall was not even present. Rather, in her place, was a thin, shabbily dressed man with graying hair and kind eyes. Curious, Harry took his customary seat in the back and ignored Draco's muttering ("Peasants! Disgraceful. What _will_ father say…?") in favor of examining the odd stranger, wondering who he was. He didn't have long to wait.

As the last seat was filled by late-comers, the man stepped out from behind McGonagall's desk and smiled at them all.

"Good morning," he began cheerfully, "I am, for the time being, your substitute teacher, Professor Remus J. Lupin. Professor McGonagall, due to her … breakdown … last week, is off recuperating. Her absence is indefinite, so until then, I shall be your Transfiguration Professor. Please don't hesitate to ask questions, but please also understand that I will not hesitate to exercise my authority should you get out of control. I hope that we'll get along." With that, he stepped back to the desk for the role sheet, and the class commenced.

Professor Lupin proved to be quite proficient at teaching unruly students the magic of Transfiguration, and he was especially patient when anyone struggled. All in all, when the session ended, the majority of the students were chattering loudly about how much they liked him. Even Draco conceded (though only to Harry) that, "Though his taste in dress is an absolute abomination, he is proving more apt than I should have thought, and is certainly an improvement on that Gryffindor hag." Thankfully, this phrase was not said before any of Harry's Housemates, for they seemed to be taking McGonagall's absence rather harder than most, especially the older years.

The rest of the day passed by with startling speed, and before long it was dinnertime, and Dumbledore was standing to make an announcement before the meal commenced.

"Now that we have struggled through our first few weeks," said the Headmaster, eyes twinkling as the Weasley twins, sitting with Draco and Harry at the Slytherin table, made fainting motions, "it is my pleasure to announce that tomorrow, those students who have signed up to try and earn the right to become Hogwarts champion will be tested. Those who have decided to try must go straight to the Quidditch Pitch immediately after breakfast. The testing will take all day, so yes, you will get out of your classes. Please all try your best, and I look forward to seeing which of you is most prepared for the challenge presented by the Ebony Orb competition." And with that, he sat down again.

_You have signed up, haven't you?_ demanded Tom as Harry carefully ladled himself some soup from a pot at the center of the table. Harry nodded absently as he took a sip.

_Yes._

_Yes what?_ sneered Tom, making Harry flinch. The boy didn't even dare to roll his eyes at Tom's big-headedness, for it was certain that the teen would notice, and punish him, be they in the Great Hall or alone in Sirius' rooms. All he could do was comply.

_Yes master,_ he said quietly, his tone rather defeated.

_And?_

_I apologize for forgetting, Lord._

_Good, _said Tom, satisfied. _You're improving, heir. Now, about this competition. You need to get into the competition and win it; it is quite vital that you do._

_Why?_ asked Harry, uncertain he actually wanted to be helping Tom in any venture, much less one so big. He winced as Tom pulled his nerve endings so that he felt as though he'd been slapped harshly.

_Nothing that you need concern yourself with,_ snapped the older boy, _but should you try to back out of it I swear I'll hunt down that filth you keep trying to pass off as friends and—_

_Leave them alone! _snapped Harry back. _It's not like they've done anything to you, and Muggles aren't all bad._

_Just the ones you live with, I suppose,_ sneered Tom.

_They're not bad!_ snarled Harry. Tom's presence in his mind seemed quite taken aback by his vehemence. _They're just confused and scared! And they're just trying to do what's best_ _for me, so don't you_ dare _insult them!_

For awhile, Tom was quiet. Then, with a touch of bitterness, he said, _We really need to make sure you see Severus more, heir._

* * *

The next morning, everyone was talking loudly at breakfast. Having heard that it would get them out of classes, there had been a mad rush to sign up. Unfortunately, the parchment had a charmed limit as to how many students could sign without permission from their teachers, and so only forty or so would be tested. Numbered among the first of these forty was Harry Potter, looking ridiculously tiny beside the other students preparing for the tests. Nevertheless, he earned a great many wary looks from those who had been in class with him, but those looks were scoffed at by those who merely thought that it was all favoritism for the Boy Who Lived, rather than any real talent. Harry didn't really care what any of them thought, but he hoped that they weren't too upset if he won—_which you will, _said Tom confidently. _Even if you do freeze up, I know enough spells to get you in. After all, I am—in a way—still a Hogwarts sixth year._

_Really?_ asked Harry, genuinely interested in his tormentor for once. _You never mentioned that. Did you know Professor McGonagall?_

_That Transfiguration teacher you lost?_ sneered Tom. _No, I did not have the doubtful pleasure of meeting her._

_I dunno,_ said Harry dryly, _you might've gotten on well. You see, she didn't like me either. In fact, her so-called breakdown was strangely reminiscent of attempted murder. My Lord._

_Don't be dramatic._

_Fine. Master, _he added. _All the same, she had her wand aimed at me, and she looked so … well … she looked like she hated me. And she had been picking on me—specifically—since my first class, and she's the teacher that everyone had agreed to be fair at school. I think that there's something else going on, but of course Headmaster Dumbledore (that old coot,_ hissed Tom) _likely wouldn't tell us if there was a _dragon_ loose at school, much less—_

"Potter!" barked Snape, reading off the list of those who had signed up. Harry jerked, startled.

"Here," he said quietly, ignoring his classmates' sniggers as Severus glared at him. He sighed despondently as the teacher moved on to "Lewick."

"Harry, what are you doing here?" asked a startled voice from behind him. Harry turned to see Professor Lupin standing, shabby as ever, before a rather large crate that shook and shuddered every so often rather ominously.

"Good morning Professor Lupin," said Harry softly, staring up at the man. "I'm here to compete."

"Ah," said Lupin, smiling suddenly. "Wanted to get out of class, then?"

"No," said Harry calmly, finally used to the seeming denseness of those around him, "I'm here to enter and win the tournament." Momentarily taken aback, Lupin finally gave him a crooked smile, patted his head, and nodded.

"I'm … sure you'll win," he said, sounding as if he was sure of no such thing. Harry waited for him to leave before he rolled his eyes, something he'd seen Draco do often.

_And yet another person thinks I'm wacked_, he sighed mentally. Tom snorted.

_Of course they do; after all, what _normal_ eleven-year-old is taking fifth year courses?_

_And seventh year,_ murmured Harry, almost inaudible. He had the oddest impression that Tom jerked.

_What? And you let them find out you were this advanced??_

_Why not? _asked Harry, puzzled. _I was bored in all my classes. School is _supposed_ to be challenging—_

_And at the same time you are not supposed to let people know how advanced you are! _reprimanded Tom, sounding peeved. _If people underestimate you, it's far easier to do what you want to._

_Only in certain things, though, _Harry replied calmly. _After all, they don't give jobs to imbeciles._

_Have you seen the Minister of Magic lately? _sneered Tom. _And anyway, it is also easier for a supposed imbecile to get around and do things he's not supposed to, because no one realizes that he can do them. Therefore, people will eliminate this supposed dunce as any sort of threat and he can thereby gain more power with less rivals._

_I suppose, _Harry conceded. _No matter how you look at it though, both have their advantages and disadvantages. Frankly, I prefer being challenged._

_Then read the library, _snapped the black-haired teen. And then he was silent, done conversing for the moment.

Harry looked up after Tom retreated in time to see Dumbledore move before the large group on the Quidditch Pitch. Draco wasn't with him today. Rather, he'd gone to class without Harry, having been assured by Percy (who was also trying out) that Harry would be well looked-after.

"My esteemed students," began the white-bearded Headmaster, "if you will please gather into groups according to your age, we may move into the cycle of testing. All years will be tested until either the tests are finished or they fail an assignment. First Years will be assigned to Professor Flitwick for the first test; Second Years to Professor Grubbly-Plank; Third Years to Professor Snape; Fourth Years to Professor Sprout; Fifth Years to myself; Sixth Years to Professor Lupin; and our Seventh Years to Professor Moody. You will have two hours for the first round of testing, after which we will eliminate those who have not passed and decide upon the next approach. Your testing begins in exactly two minutes. Please go to your assigned teacher. Good luck to all of you."

* * *

Five hours and three tests later, only fifteen students were left. Harry, among those fifteen, had found the first round of testing to be ridiculously easy, but he had been the only first year to pass to the second round, which, while noticeably different, was still not ultimately too difficult, and he had passed with ease to the third round. This he had had with Severus, and it had been the brewing of a rather complex potion that had completely thrashed all years below sixth, save (again) Harry. Those who had been laughing at him at the start now watched him anxiously, hoping that he truly didn't have what it took to beat them to the top. Unfortunately for them, he most certainly did.

"Now," said Dumbledore cheerily, smiling at all of them, "we move on to the hopefully second-to-last test. Professor Lupin, if you please." Lupin stepped forward, tearing his gaze from Harry, still looking surprised at the boy's presence.

"Yes. In this crate," he said, pointing to the shaking container, "you will each enter and face the creature inside. There is a silencing charm around the cage, so no one will know how you defeat it—if you do. Should you get in trouble, send up red sparks. I'll see them and rescue you. Ready? Now, Alexander Davies, you're first. First find out what the monster is and then defeat it." Looking rather pale, Sixth Year Davies walked to the lid of the crate, quickly flipped it open, and jumped in. Professor Lupin slammed it shut after him.

A minute later, he stepped out again, looking rather shaken but still grinning.

"Alice Bartwotski." A pretty Seventh Year girl stepped forward. A few minutes later she emerged, shaken but triumphant.

The next five, in succession, failed, sending up red sparks only a minute or so into the test. Harry, the next to go, stepped up quietly and slipped inside, wand at the ready. Lupin watched him go with worried eyes.

* * *

The inside of the crate was far larger than the outside, and looked like a small, empty room. A wardrobe stood against one wall, and it rattled and shook, making the crate shudder. Pondering what sort of creatures he knew that hid in closets, Harry had a few good guesses on what might be waiting. Thus prepared, he stood at the far wall and charmed the wardrobe door to open.

At first glance, what stepped out was innocuous enough – Harry's friends and Sirius were even smiling and laughing amongst themselves as they emerged from the depths of the wardrobe. Seeing Harry though, the smiles vanished, to be replaced by hatred and contempt. They looked—unnervingly—quite like the Dursleys did when they were displeased with him. Harry was very familiar with this look.

Knowing what the creature he had been sent to battle was, Harry quickly raised his wand as the Sirius look-alike opened his mouth, ready to snarl at him.

"_Ridikkulus_!" he cried, and with a sharp crack! the boggart Sirius smiled and laughed as he activated a dungbomb on Fred. Harry smiled slightly, and the vanquished boggart vanished back into the depths of the wardrobe, which Harry shut securely behind it.

Quiet and rather upset by the appearance of his deepest fear, Harry walked back to the crate entrance and exited slowly and silently.

* * *

The final test was even easier for the five that trumped the boggart. It was the magical project—whoever did the most complicated and difficult spell was in. Period. Of course, there would be a runner-up in the eventuality that the champion died or something, but that was more formality than anything else.

Two people in the group did Patronuses, but only one was corporeal, and even that not very. Alex Davies conjured a puppy that lasted a full hour, and Bartwotski did a complicated meal charm—real food made of magic, which was a lot harder than one would think, especially as the conjuration had to maintain substance even hours late in order to fully qualify as food. Harry, on the other hand, determined (and permitted by Tom) to beat everyone hands-down, asked for a school broom and modified it, with a series of interwoven spells, to be faster and safer than even the Nimbus Two Thousand model that was the talk of the Quidditch teams.

While the task might not appear difficult, in reality racing brooms were a specialty-magic. They were difficult to make, and even harder to force to maintain the magic placed upon them. The magics employed were complicated, and often it took months for even a new broom model to appear for testing. It took years for the average, specialist broom-maker to create a finished copy. Harry's, though not his first try at broom-making, was advanced and magically enhanced enough that it would maintain its magics for at least the next ten years before they would start to fade. The teachers, and Tom, were suitably impressed enough to make Harry hopeful. The other competitors were merely resigned.

"Oh well," said a disappointed but smiling Davies, "we knew we couldn't compare, but it was fun to try. Besides, I'm glad you're the Hogwarts champ. We are _so_ going to win this thing." He smiled at Harry's surprised expression. "No, seriously, I don't think any of us really mind. After seeing and hearing some of the things I have, I'm just surprised you didn't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds!"

"But that's impossible to do," said Harry, frowning. "No one can—"

"I know," smiled Alex. "That's why I'm surprised you haven't. You seem to delight in doing what we mortals can't." He grinned. "It's called joking, okay?"

"Oh," said Harry, blushing. "Sorry."

"It's alright. You really need to be less uptight though. Hey, I'm going to dinner; you want to come?"

"Sure! Can Draco sit with us?" Alex rolled his eyes.

"Would I be able to get his highness to _not_ sit with us?"

"…good point."

* * *

A/N: Sorry this took so long. Finally! The long-awaited tests! Now we can start having some fun around here … Please note that I _know_ this was a crappy chappy, but it needed to be done, and the information had to be put in. I did my best with an uncooperative muse. I hope it was good enough!

--tati1


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